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I College of Hgriculture 



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Cornell University Library 

Public speaking; principles and practice. 


3 1924 014 551 414 

Cornell University 

The original of tliis book is in 
tlie Cornell University Library. 

There are no known copyright restrictions in 
the United States on the use of the text. 





MACMILLAN fie CO., Limited 










TStia gorft 



All rights reserved 




Set up and electrotyped. Published September, 19x3. Reprinted 
January, December, 19x3, 

J. S. Onahlng Co. —Berwick A Smith Co. 
Norwood, Mass., IJ.S.A. 







This book is designed to set forth the main principles of 
effective platform delivery, and to provide, a large body of 
material for student practice. The work laid out may be 
used to form a separate course of study, or a course of 
training running parallel with a course in debating or 
other original speaking. It has been prepared with a view 
also to that large number who want to speak, or have to 
speak, but cannot have the advantage of a teacher. Much 
is therefore said in the way of caution, and untechnical 
language is used throughout. 

The discussion of principles in Part One is intended as a 
help towards the student's understanding of his task, and 
also as a common basis of criticism in the relation between 
teacher and pupil. The preliminary fimdamental work of 
Part Two, Technical Training, deals first with the right 
formation of tone, the development of voice as such, the 
securing of a fixed right vocal habit. Following comes the 
adapting of this unproved voice to the varieties of use, or 
expressional effect, demanded of the public speaker. After 
-this critical detailed drill, the student is to take the plat- 
form, and apply his acquired technique to continued dis- 
course, receiving criticism after each entire piece of work. 

The question as to what should be the plan and the con- 
tent of Part Three, Platform Practice, has been determined 
simply by asking what are the distinctly varied conditions 
imder which men most frequently speak. It is regarded 

viii Preface 

as profitable for the student to practice, at least to some 
extent, in all the several kinds of speech here chosen. In 
thus cultivating versatility, he will greatly enlarge his 
power of expression, and will, at length, discover wherein 
lies his own special capability. 

The principal aim in choosing the selections has been 
to have them suflSciently ahve to be attractive to yoimger 
speakers, and not so heavy as to be imsuited to their powers. 
Some of them have proved effective by use ; many others 
are new. In all cases they are of good quahty. 

It is hoped that the new features of the book will be 
foimd usefid. One of these is a group of lighter after- 
dinner speeches and anecdotes. It has .been said that, in 
present-day speech-making, humor has supplanted former- 
day eloquence. It plays anyway a considerable part in 
various kinds of speaking. The yoimg speaker is generally 
ineffective in the expression of pleasantry, even his own. 
Practice in the speaking of wholesome humor is good for 
cultivating quality of voice and ease of manner, and for 
developing the faculty of giving himiorous turn to one's 
own thought. It is also entertaining to fellow students. 
Other new features in the book are a practice section for 
the kind of informal speaking suited to the club or the 
classroom, and a section given to the occasional poem, the 
kind of poem that is associated with speech-making. 

A considerable space is given to argumentative selections 
because of the general interest in debating, and because a 
need has been felt for something suited for special forensic 
practice among students of law. Some poetic selections 
are introduced into Part Two in order to give attractive 
variety to the student's work, and to provide for the ad- 



vantage of using verse form in some of the vocal training. 
The few character sketches introduced may serve for cul- 
tivating facility in giving entertaining touches to serious 
discourse. All the selections for platform practice are de- 
signed, as seems most fitting, to occupy about five minutes 
in delivery. Original speeches, wherein the student pre- 
sents his own thought, may be intermingled with this 
more technical work in delivery, or may be taken up in a 
more special way in a subsequent course. 

It should, perhaps, be suggested that the plan of pro- 
cedure here prescribed can be modified to suit the indi- 
vidual teacher or student. The method of advance 
explained in the Discussion of Principles is believed to be 
the best, but some who use the book may prefer, for 
example, to begin with the second group of selections, 
the familiar, colloquial passages, and proceed from these 
to those more elevated and sustained. This or any other 
variation from the plan here proposed can, of course, be 
adopted. For any plan the variety of material is deemed 
sufficient, and the method of grouping will be foimd con- 
venient and practical. 

The making of this kind of book would not be possible 
except for the generous privileges granted by many authors 
and many publishers of copyrighted works. For the special 
courtesies of all whose writings have a place here the 
editor would make the fullest acknowledgment of indebted- 
ness. The books from which extracts are taken have been 
mentioned, in every case, in a prominent place with the 
title of the selection, in order that so far as possible stu- 
dents may be led carefully to read the entire original, and 
become fully imbued with its meaning and spirit, before 

X Preface 

undertaking the vocal work on the selected portion. For 
the purpose of such reading, it would be well to have these 
books collected on a section of shelves in school libraries for 
easy and ready reference. 

The publishers from whose books selections have been 
most liberally drawn are, Messrs. Houghton Mifiiin Com- 
pany, Messrs. Lothrop, Lee and Shepard, Messrs. Little, 
Brown, and Company, of Boston, and Messrs. Harper and 
Brothers, Messrs. Charles Scribner's Sons, Messrs. G. P. 
Putnam's Sons, Messrs. G. W. Dillingham Company, 
Messrs. Doubleday, Page and Company, and Mr. C. P. 
Farrell, New York. Several of the after-dinner speeches 
are taken from the excellent fifteen volume collection, 
"Modern Eloquence," by an arrangement with Geo. L. 
Shuman and Company, Chicago, publishers. In the first 
three volumes of this collection will be foimd many other 
attractive after-dinner speeches. 

I. L. W. 

Cambridge, Massachusetts. 



Preface vii 

Introduction xi 



Technical Training 

Establishing the Tone 1 

Vocal Flexibility 12 

The Formation of Words 14 

Making the Point 19 

Indicating Values and Relations 25 

Expressing the Feeling 29 

Showing the Picture 31 

Expression by Action 33 

Platform Practice 

The Formal Address 43 

The Public Lecture 44 

The Informal Discussion 45 

Argumentative Speech 46 

The After-Dinner Speech 49 

The Occasional Poem 50 

The Making of the Speech 51 



Establishing the Tone 

O Scotia 1 . . . 

. Robert Bums 

. 57 

O Rome 1 My Country 1 

. Lord Byron . 

. 58 

Ring Out, Wild Bells ! 

. Alfred Lord Tennyson . 

. 58 

Roll On, Thou Deep 1 

. Lord Byron 


Thou Too, Sail On 1 . 

. Henry W. Longfellow . 




O Tiber, Father Tiber ! 
Marullus to the Roman Citizens . 
The Recessional .... 
The Cradle of Liberty 
The Impeachment of Warren 


Bunker Hill .... 

The Gettysburg Address 

Vocal Flexibility 

Caesar, the Fighter 
Official Duty 

Look Well to your Speech . 
Hamlet to the Players 
Bellario's Letter . 
Casca, Speaking of Caesar 
Squandering of the Voice . 
The Training of the Gentleman 

Making the Point 

Brutus to the Roman Citizens 
The Precepts of Polonius . 
The High Standard . 
On Taxing the Colonies 
Justifying the President 
Britain and America . 

Values and Transitions 

King Robert of Sicily . 
Laying the Atlantic Cable . 
O'Connell, the Orator 
Justification for Impeachment 
Wendell Phillips, the Orator 
On the Disposal of Public Lands 
The Declaration of Independence 

Expressing the Feeling 

Lord Macaulay 
William Shakespeare 
Rudyard Kipling . 
Daniel Webster 

Edmund Burke 
Daniel Webster 
Abraham Lincoln . 

Henry W. Longfellow 
Theodore Roosevelt 
George Herbeti Palmer 
William Shakespeare 
William Shakespeare 
William Shakespeare 
Henry Ward Beecher 
William/. Tucker 

William Shakespeare 
William, Shakespeare 
Lord Rosebery 
Edmund Burke 
John C. Spooner 
John Bright 

Henry W. Longfellow 
James T. Fields 
Wendell Phillips 
Edmund Burke 
George William Curtis 
Robert Y. Hayne 
Abraham Lincoln 

Northern Greeting to Southern 

Veterans Henry Cabot Lodge 

Matches and Overmatches . . Daniel Webster 

The Coalition .... Daniel Webster 

In His Own Defense . . Robert Emmet 










On Resistance to Great Britain . 
Invective against Louis Bona- 

Showing the Picture 

Mount, the Doge of Venice ! 
The Revenge 
A Vision of War 
Sunset Near Jerusalem 
A Return in Triumph 
A Return in Defeat . 

Expression by Action 

In Our Forefathers' Day . 
Cassius against Caesar 
The Spirit of the South 
Something Rankling Here 
Faith in the People 
The French against Hayti 
The Necessity of Force 
Against War with Mexico 
The Murder of Lovejoy 

Depicting Character 

A Tale of the Plains 

Gunga Din 

Address of Sergeant Buzfuz 
A Natural Philosopher 
Response to a Toast . 
Partridge at the Play . 
A Man's a Man for a' That 
Artemus Ward's Lecture . 
Jim Bludso, of the Prairie Belle . 
The Trial of Abner Barrow 

Patrick Henry 
Victpr Hugo 

Mary Russell Mitford 
Alfred Lord Tennyson 
Robert G. Ingersoll 
Corwin Knapp Linson 
T. De Witt Talmage 
Henry W. Grady 

T. De Witt Talmage 
William Shakespeare 
Henry W. Grady 
Daniel Webster 
John Bright 
Wendell Phillips 
John M. Thurston 
Thomas Corwin 
Wendell Phillips 

Theodore Roosevelt 
Rudyard Kipling 
Charles Dickens 
Maccabe . 
Litchfield Moseley 
Henry Fielding 
Robert Bums . 
Charles Farrar Brown 
John Hay 
Richard Harding Davis 






The Speech of Formal Occasion 
The Benefits of a College Edu- 

What the College Gives 

Abbott Lawrence Lowell . . 176 
Le Baron Russell Briggs . , 179 



Memorial Day Address 

William McKinley 

Robert E. Lee .... 

Farewell Address to the United 
States Senate .... 

The Death of Garfield 

The Second Inaugural Address . 

The Death of Prince Albert 

An Appreciation of Mr. Glad- 

William E. Gladstone 

The Soldier's Creed . 

Competition in College 

John D. Long 
John Hay 
John W. Daniel 

Henry Clay 
James G. Blaine 
Abraham Lincoln 
Benjamin Disraeli 

Arthur J. Balfour 
Lord Rosebery 
Horace Porter . 
Abbott Lawrence Lowell 





The Public Lecture 

A Master of the Situation . 
Wit and Humor 
A Message to Garcia 
Shakespeare's " Mark Antony " 
Andr^ and Hale 
The Battle of Lexington . 
The Homes of the People 
General Ulysses S. Grant 
American Courage 
The Minutemen of the Revolu- 

Paul Revere's Ride . 
The Arts of the Ancients . . 
A Man without a Country . 
The Execution of Rodriguez 

James T. Fields 

. 206 

MinotJ. Savage 

. 208 

Elbert Hubbard 

. 210 


. 212 

Chauncey M. Depew 

. 214 

Theodore Parker 

. 216 

Henry W. Grady 

. 217 

Canon G. W. Farrar 

. 219 

Sherman Hoar ' . 

. 221 

George William Curtis 

. 224 

George William Curtis 

. 226 

Wendell Phillips 

. 228 

Edward Everett Hale 

. 231 

Richard Harding Davis 

. 236 

The Informal Discussion 

The Flood of Books . 
Effectiveness in Speaking 
Books, Literature and the People 
Education for Business 
The Beginnings of American 


Daniel Webster, the Man . 
The Enduring Value of Speech 
To College Girls 

Henry van Dyke . . . 240 

William Jennings Bryan , 241 

Henry van Dyke . . . 244 

Charles William Eliot . . 245 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson 248 

TTiomas Wentworth Higginson 251 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson 253 

Le Baron Russell Briggs . 256 



The Art of Acting . 

Henry Irving 


. 259 

Address to the Freshman Class 

at Harvard University . 

Charles William Eliot 

. 261 

With Tennyson at Farringford . 

By His Son 

. 264 

Notes on Speech-Making . 

Brander Matthews . 

. 267 

Hunting the Grizzly 

Theodore Roosevelt . 

. 269 



On Retaining the Philippine 

On Retaining the Philippine 

Debate on the Tariff . 

Debate on the Tariff . 

South Carolina and Massachu- 

South Carolina and Massachu- 

The Republican Party 

Nominating Ulysses S. Grant . 

The Choice of a Party 

Nominating John Sherman 

The Democratic Party 

The Call to Democrats 

Nominating Woodrow Wilson . 

Democratic Faith 

England and America 

On Home Rule in Ireland 

George F. Hoar 

William McKinley 
TTtomas B. Reed 
Charles F. Crisp 

Robert Y. Hayne 

Daniel Webster . 
John Hay 

Roscoe Conkling 

Roscoe Conkling 
James A. Garfield 

William E. Russell 
Alton B. Parker 
John W. Wescott 

William E. Russell 
John Bright 

William E. Gladstone 






The Dartmouth College Case . 
In Defense of the Kennistons . 
In Defense of the Kennistons, II 
In Defense of John E. Cook 
In Defense of the Soldiers 
In Defense of the Soldiers, II . 
In Defense of the Soldiers, III . 
In Defense of Lord George 


Pronouncing Sentence for High 


Daniel Webster 
Daniel Webster 
Daniel Webster. 
D. W. Voorhees 
Josiah Quincy, Jr. 
Josiah Quincy, Jr. 
Josiah Quincy, Jr. 

Lord TTiomas Erskine 

Sir Alfred Wills 






The Impeachment of Andrew 

1 Johnson 

Georgx S. Bmtwell . 

. 326 

The Impeachment of Andrew 

Johnson .... 

William M. Evarts . 

. 328 

The Impeachment of Andrew 

Johnson, II . 

William M. Evarts 

. 330 

The After-Dinner Speech 

At a University Club Dinner . 

Henry E. Howland 


The Evacuation of New York . 

Joseph H. Choate 

. 335 

Ties of Kinship 

Sir Edwin Arnold 


Canada, England and the United 


Sir Wilfred Laurier 

. 340 

Monsieur and Madame . 

Paul Blouet (Max O'Rell) 

. 342 

The Tjrpical American . 

Henry W. Grady 

. 344 

The Pilgrim Mothers '. 

Joseph H. Choate 

. 346 

Bright Land tqJffiestHcaHL^- . 

E. 0. Wolcott 

. 348 

Woroaff-: . . ,. . 

Theodore Tilton . 

. 351 

-<fi£raham Lincoln . 

Horace Porter 

. 353 

To Athletic Victors 

Henry E. Howland 

. 355 

SE Occasional Poem 

Charles Dickens 

William Watson 

. 358 

The Mariners of England 

Thomas Campbell 

. 360 

Class Poem 

Langdon Warner 

. 361 

A Troop of the Guard . 

Hermann Hagedom, Jr. 

. 364 

The Boys .... 

Oliver Wendell Holmes 

. 366 

The Anecdote 

The Mob Conquered 

George William Curtis 

. 369 

An Example of Faith 

Henry W. Gmdy 

. 370 

The Rail-Splitter . 

H. L. Williams . 

. 372 

O'Connell's Wit 

Wendell Phillips 

. 373 

A Reliable Team . 

Theodore Roosevelt 

. 375 

Meg's Marriage 

Robert Collyer 

. 377 

Outdoing Mrs. Partington 

Sidney Smith 

. 379 

Circumstance not a Cause 

Sidney Smith 

. 381 

More Terrible than the Lions 

A. A. McCormick 

. 383 

Irving, the Actor . 

John De Morgan 

. 384 

Wendell Phillips's Tact . 

James Burton Pond 

. 385 

Baked Beans and Culture 

Eugene Field 

. 386 

Secretary Chase's Chin-Fly . 

F. B. Carpenter . 

. 389 

Index of Titles 

. 391 

Index of Authors . 

. 395 


Happily, it is no longer necessary to argue that public 
speaking is a worthy subject for regular study in school 
and college. The teaching of this subject, in one form or 
another, is now fairly well established. In each of the 
larger universities, including professional schools and 
summer schools, the students electing the courses in speak- 
ing nimiber weU into the hundreds. These courses are 
now being more generally placed among those counted 
towards the academic degrees. The demand for trained 
teachers in the various branches of the work in schools 
and colleges is far above the present supply. Educators 
in general look with more favor upon this kind of instruc- 
tion, recognizing its practical usefulness and its cultural 
value. The question of the present time, then, is not 
whether or not the subject shall have a place. Some sort 
of place it always has had and always will have. Present 
discussion shoiild rather bear upon the policy and the 
method of that instruction, the qualifications to be re^ 
quired of teachers, and the consideration for themselves 
and their work that teachers have a right to expect. 

Naturally, pubHc speaking in the form of debating has 
received favor among educators. It seems to serve the 
ends of practice in speaking and it gives also good mental 
discipline. The high regard for debating is not misplaced. 
We can hardly overestimate the good that debating has 
done to the subject of speaking in the schools and colleges. 

xviii Introduction 

The rigid intellectual discipline involved in debating has 
helped to estabhsh pubhc speaking in the regular curricu- 
lum, thus gaining for it, and for teachers in it, greater re- 
spect. To bring training in speech into close relation with 
training in thought, and with the study of expression in 
Enghsh, is most desirable. This, however, does not mean 
that training in speech, as a distinct object in itself, should 
be allowed to fall into comparative neglect. It is quite 
possible that, along with the healthy disapproval of false 
elocution and meaningless declamation, may come an 
underestimation of the important place of a right kind and 
a due degree of technical training in voice and general 

In a recent book on public speaking, the statement is 
made that it is all well enough, if it so happens, for a 
speaker to have a pleasing voice, but it is not essential. 
This, though true in a sense, is misleading, and much 
teaching of this sort would be unfortimate for young 
speakers. It would seem quite unnecessary to say that 
beauty of voice is not in itself a primary object in vocal 
training for public speaking. The object is to make voices 
effective. In the effective use of any other instrument, 
we apply the utmost skill for the perfect adjustment or 
coordination of all the means of control. We do this for 
the attainment of power, for the conserving of energy, for 
the insuring of endurance and ease of operation. This is 
the end in the training of the voice. It is to avoid fric- 
tion. It is to prevent nervous strain, muscular distortion, 
and failing power, and to secure easy response to the will 
of the speaker. The point not wholly understood or 
heeded is that, as a rule, the unpleasing voice is an indi- 

Introduction xix 

cation of ill adjustment and friction. It denotes a mecha- 
nism wearing on itself — it means a voice that will weaken 
or fail before its time — a voice that needs repair. 

Since speech is to express a speaker's thought, training 
in speech should not be altogether dissociated from train- 
ing in thinking. It ought to go hand in hand, indeed, with 
the study of Enghsh, from first to last. But training in 
voice and in the method of speech is a technical matter. 
It ought not to be left to the haphazard treatment, the 
intense spurring on, of vocally unskilled coaches for speak- 
ing contests. Discussions about the teaching of speaking 
are often very curious. We are frequently told by what 
means a few great orators have succeeded, but we are 
hardly ever informed of the causes from which many other 
speakers have been embarrassed or have failed. A book 
or essay is written to prove, from the individual experience 
of the author, the infallibility of a method. He was able 
to succeed, the argument runs, only by this or that means; 
therefore all should do as he did. It seems very plausible 
and attractive to read, for instance, that to succeed in 
speaking, it is only necessary to plimge in and be in earnest. 
But another writer points out that this is quite absurd ; 
that many poor speakers have not lacked in intense earnest- 
ness and sincerity; that it isn't feeling or intense spirit 
alone that insures success, but it is the attainment as well 
of a vocal method. Yet he goes on to argue that this 
vocal method, this forming of a public speaking voice and 
style, cannot be rightly gained from the teachers ; it must 
be acquired through the exercise of each man's own will; 
if a man finds he is going wrong he must wiU to go right — 
as if many men had not persistently but unsuccessfully 

XX Introduction 

exercised their will to this very end. It is so easy, and so 
attractive, to resolve all problems into one idea. Presi- 
dent Woodrow Wilson, of Princeton University, once said 
that he always avoided the man or the book that pro- 
claimed one idea for the correcting of society's ills. These 
ideas on which books or essays are written are too obviously 
fallacious to need extended comment ; the wonder is that 
they are often quoted and commended as being beneficial 
in their teaching. If we want to row or sprint or play 
golf, we do not simply go in and do our utmost ; we apply 
the best technical skill to the art; we seek to learn how, 
from the experience of the past, and through the best in- 
structors obtainable. Both common sense and experience 
show that the use of the hiunan voice in the art of speak- 
ing is not the one thing, among all things, that cannot be 
successfully taught. The results of vocal teaching show, 
on the contrary, from multitudes of examples, from volumes 
of testimony, that there are few branches of instruction 
wherein the specially trained teacher is so much needed, 
and can be so effective as in the art of speaking. 

In an experience extending over many years, an experi- 
ence deahng with about all the various forms of public 
speaking and vocal teaching, the present writer has tried 
many methods, conducted classes on several different 
plans, learned the needs, observed the efforts, considered 
the successes and failures, of many men and women of 
various ages and of many callings. The constant and 
insistent fact in all this period of experience has been that 
skillful, technical instruction, as such, is the one kind of 
instruction that should always be provided where public 
speaking is taught, and the one that the student should 

Introduction xxi 

not fail to secure when it is at hand. Other elements in 
good speech-making may, if necessary, be obtained from 
other sources. The teacher of speaking should teach 
speech. He should teach something else also, but he 
should, as a technician, teach that. The multitude of 
men and women who, in earlier and later life, come, in 
vocal trouble, to seek help from the experienced teacher, 
and the abundance of testimony as to the satisfactory re- 
sults ; the repeated evidences of failure to produce rightly 
trained voices wholly by so-called inspirational methods ; 
the frequent evidences of pernicious vocal results from the 
forcing of yoimg voices in the overintense and hasty efforts 
made in preparing for prize speaking, acting, and debating, 
— all these may not come to the understanding of the 
ordinary observer; they may not often, perhaps, come 
within the experience of the exceptionally gifted indi- 
viduals who are usually cited as examples of distinguished 
success; they cannot impress themselves on educators 
who have little or no relation with this special subject; 
they naturally come into the knowledge and experience of 
the specially trained teacher of public speaking, who is 
brought into intimate relations with the subject and deals 
with all sorts and conditions of men. Out of this experi- 
ence comes the strong conviction that the teacher of public 
speaking should be a vocal technician and a vocal phy- 
sician, able to teach constructively and to treat correctively, 
knowing all he can of all that has been taught before, but 
teaching only as much of what he knows as is necessary to 
any individual. 

For the dignity and worth of the teaching, the teacher 
of speaking should be trained, and should be a trainer, as 

xxii Introduction 

has been indirectly said, in some other subject — in English 
literature or composition, in debating, history, or what not. 
He should be one of the academic faculty — concerned 
with thought, which speech expresses. He should not, for 
his other subject, be mainly concerned with gymnastics or 
athletics ; he should not, for his own good and the conse- 
quent good of his work, be wholly taken up merely with 
the teaching of technical form in speaking. He should 
not be merely — ■ if at all — a coach in inter-collegiate 
contests; nor should his service to an institution be ad- 
judged mainly by the results of such contests. He should 
be an independent, intellectually grown and growing man, 
one who — in his exceptionally intimate relations with 
students — will have a large and right influence on student 
life. The offer recently held out by a imiversity of a 
salary and an academic rank equal to its best, to a suffi- 
ciently qualified instructor in pubfic speaking, was one of 
the several signs of a sure movement of to-day in the 
right direction — the demand for a man of high character 
and broad cultiure, specially skilled in the technical subject 
he was to teach, and the providing of a worthy position. 

One fact that needs to be impressed upon governing 
bodies of school and college is that the cultivation of good 
speaking cannot but be unsatisfactory when it is continued 
over only a very brief time. It may only do mischief. A 
considerable period is necessary, as is the case with other 
subjects, for reaching the student intelligence, for mold- 
ing the faculties, for maturing the powers, for adapting 
method to the individual, and for bringing the personaHty 
out through the method, so that method disappears. Sena- 
tor George F. Hoar once gave very sensible advice in an 

Introduction xxiii 

address to an audience of Harvard students. He did not 
content himself with dwelling on the inevitable platitude, 
first have something to say, and then say it; he said he 
had been, in all his career, at a special disadvantage in 
public speaking, from the want of early training in the use 
of his voice; and he urged that students would do weU 
not only to take advantage of such training in college, but 
to have their teacher, if it were possible, follow them, for 
a time, into their professional work. This idea was weU 
exemplified in the case of PhiUips Brooks — a speaker of 
spontaneity, simph'city, and splendid power. It is said 
that, in the period of his pulpit work, in the midst of his 
absorbing church duties, he made it a duty to go from time 
to time for a period of work with his teacher of voice, 
that he might be kept from falling back into wrong ways. 
It is often said that, if a man has it in him, he will speak 
well anyway. It is emphatically the man who has it in 
him, the man of intense temperament, like that of Phillips 
Brooks, who most needs the balance wheel, the sure re- 
liance, of technique. That this technique should not be 
too technical ; that form should not be too formal ; that 
teaching should not be too good, or do too much, is one of 
the principles of good teaching. The point insisted on is 
that a considerable time is needed, as it is in other kinds of 
teaching, for thoroughly working out a few essential prin- 
ciples ; for overcoming a few obstinate faults ; for securing 
matured results by the fight process of gradual develop- 

There is much cause for gratification in the evidences of 
a growing appreciation, in all quarters, of the place due 
to spoken English, as a study to be taught continuously 

xxiv Introduction 

side by side with written English. Much progress has also 
been made toward making youthful platform speaking, as 
well as youthful writing, more rational in form, more true 
in spirit, more useful for its purpose. In good time written 
and spoken English, conjoined with disciplinary training 
in thought and imagination, will both become firmly estab- 
lished in their proper place as subjects to be thoroughly 
and systematically taught. Good teaching will become 
traditional, and good teachers not rare. And among the 
specialized courses in pubhc speaking an important place 
should always be given to an exact training in voice and 
in the whole art of effective delivery. 





Technical Training 


The common trouble in using the voice for the more vig- 
orous or intense forms of speaking is a contraction or strain- 
ing of the throat. This impedes the free flow of voice, 
causing impaired tone, poor enunciation, and imhealthy 
physical conditions. Students should, therefore, be con- 
stantly warned against the least begirmings of this fault. 
The earlier indications of it may not be observed, or the 
nature of the trouble may not be known, by the imtrained 
speaker. But it ought to have, from the first, the attention 
of a skilled teacher, for the more deep-seated it becomes, the 
harder is its cure. So very common is the "throaty" tone 
and so cormected is throat pressure with every other vocal 
imperfection, that the avoiding or the correcting of this one 
faiilt demands constant watchfulness in all vigorous vocal 
work. The way to avoid the faulty control of voice is, 
of course, to learn at the prdper time the general principles 
of what singers call voice production. These principles are 
few and, in a sense, are very simple, but they are not easily 
made perfectly clear in writing, and a perfect application of 
them, even in the simpler forms of speaking, often requires 
persistent practice. It will be the aim here to state only 
what the student is most Ukely to vmderstand and profit 

B 1 

2 Public Speaking 

by, and to leave the rest to the personal guidance of a 

The control of the voice, so far as it can be a conscious 
physical operation, is determined chiefly by the action of the 
breathing muscles about the waist and the lower part of the 
chest. The voice may be said to have its foxmdation in this 
part of the physical man. This foundation, or center of 
control, will be rightly established, not by any very positive 
physical action ; not by a decided raising of the chest ; not 
by any such marked expansion or contraction as to bring 
physical discomfort or rigid musciilar conditions. When the 
breath is taken in, by an easy, natmral expansion, much as 
air is taken into a bellows, there is, to a certain degree, a 
firming of the breathing muscles ; but this muscular tension 
is felt by the speaker or singer, if felt at all, simply as a com- 
fortable fullness around, and slightly above, the waistline, 
probably more in front than elsewhere. An eminent teacher 
of singing tells his pupils to draw the breath into the stomach. 
That probably suggests the sensation. When the breath 
has been taken in, it is to be gently withheld, — not given up 
too freely, — and the tone is formed on the top, so to speak, 
of this body of breath, chiefly, of course, in the mouth and 
head. For the stronger and larger voice the breath is not 
driven out and dissipated, but the tone is intensified and 
given completer resonance within — within the nasal or 
head cavities, somewhat within the pharynx and chest. 
This body of breath, easily held in good control, by the 
lower breathing muscles, forms what is called the vocal 
"support." It is a fixed base of control. It is a fimda- 
mental condition, and is to be steadily maintained in all 
the varied operations of the voice. 

A Discussion of Principles 3 

Since this fundamental control of voice is so important, 
breathing exercises are often prescribed for regular practice. 
Such exercises, when directed by a thoroughly proficient in- 
structor, may be vocally effective, and beneficial to health. 
Unwisely practiced, they may be unfitted to vocal control 
and of positive physical harm. Moderately taking the breath 
at frequent intervals, as a preparation or reenforcement for 
speaking, should become an xmconscious habit. Excessive 
filling of the lungs or pressing downward upon the abdomen 
should be avoided. In general, the hearing of the voice, and 
an expressional purpose in making the voice, are the better 
means of acqviiring good breathing. For the purposes of 
public speaking, at least, it is seldom necessary to do much 
more, in regard to the breathing, than to instruct a student 
against going wrong. The speaker should have a settled 
feeling of sufficiency ; he should hold himself well together, 
physically and morally, avoiding nervous agitation and phys- 
ical collapse; he should allow the breath freedom rather 
than put it under unnatural constraint. Perfect breathing 
can only be known by certain qualities in the voice. When it 
is best, the process is least observed. The student learns 
the method of breathing mainly by noting the result, by 
rightly hearing his voice. He must, after all, practice 
through the hearing. 

The discussion of vocal support has brought us to the 
second main principle, the government of the throat. The 
right control of the voice, by placing a certain degree of 
tension upon the breathing muscles, tends to take away all 
pressure and constraint from the throat, leaving that pas- 
sage seemingly open and free, so that the breath body or 
column, as some conceive it, seems almost imbroken in con- 

4 Public Speaking 

tinued speech, much as it is, or should be, in prolonging 
tone in singing. The throat is opened in a relaxed rather 
than a constrained way, so as to give free play for the in- 
voluntary action of the delicate vocal muscles connected 
with the larynx, which determine all the finer variations of 
voice. Whatever kind of vocal effort is made, the student 
should constantly guard himself against the least throat 
stiffening or contraction, against what vocalists call a 
"throat grip." He is very likely to make some effort with 
the throat, or vocal muscles, when putting the voice to any 
unusual test — when prolonging tone, raising or lowering the 
pitch, giving sharp inflections, or striking hard upon words 
for emphasis. In these and other vocal efforts the throat 
muscles should be left free to do their own work in their own 
way. The throat is to be regarded as a way through ; the 
motive power is below the throat ; the place for giving sound 
or resonance, to voice, for stamping upon words their form 
and character, is in the mouth, front and back, and especially 
in the head. 

The last of the three main considerations, the concen- 
tration of tone where it naturally seems to be formed, is 
often termed voice "placing," or "placement." The pos- 
sible objection to this term is that it may suggest a purely 
artificial or arbitrary treatment or method. Rightly imder- 
stood, it is the following of nature. Its value is that it 
emphasizes the constancy of this one of the constant factors 
in voice. Its result is a certain kind and degree of monot- 
ony; without that particular kind of monotony the voice is 
faulty. When the tone is forced out of its proper place, it is 
dissipated and more or less lost. A student once told the 
writer, when complimented on the good placement of his 

A Discussion of Principles 5 

voice, that he learned this in his summer emplo)anent as a 
pubUc crier at the door of a show tent. He said he could 
not possibly have endured the daily wear upon the voice in 
any other way. Voices are heard among teamsters, foremen 
on the street, and auctioneers, that conform to this and other 
principles perfectly. We may say that in such cases the 
process of learning is unconscious. In the case of the un- 
taught student it was conscious, and was exactly what he 
would have been instructed to do by a teacher. The point 
is that many cannot learn by themselves, and our more un- 
conscious doings are likely to become our bad habits. 

Just what this voice placement is can perhaps be observed 
simply by sounding the letter "m," or giving an ordinary 
hum, as the mother sings to the child. It is merely finding 
the natural, instinctive basal form of the voice, and making 
all the vowels simply as variations of this form. The hum is 
often practiced, with a soft pure quality, by singers. It is 
varied by the sound of "ng," as in "rtuig" or "himg," 
and the elemental sound of "1." The practice should 
always be varied, however, by a fuUer sounding of the 
rounder vowels, lest the voice become too much confined 
or thinned. The speaker, like the singer, must find out how, 
by a certain adjustment all along the line from the breath- 
ing center to the point of issue of the breath at the front of 
the mouth, he can easily maintain a constant hitting place, 
to serve as the hammer head ; one singing place for carrying 
the voice steadily through a sustained passage; one place 
where, as it were, the tone is held in check so it will not break 
through itself and go to pieces, — a "placing of the voice," 
which is to be preserved in every sort of change or play of 
tone, whether in one's own character or an assumed charao- 

6 Public Speaking 

ter; a constant focus or a fixed center of resonance, a form- 
ing of tone along the roof of the mouth and well forward in 
the head, the safeguard and, practically, the one most 
effective idea in the government of voice. 

And now it should be hastily stated that this excellent 
idea, like other good things, may be easily abused. If the 
tone is pushed forward or crowded into the head or held tight 
in its place, in the least degree, there is a drawing or a cramp- 
ing in the throat; there is a "pressing" of the voice. It 
should be remembered that the constancy of high place- 
ment of tone depends upon the certainty of the tone foimda- 
tion ; that, after all, the voice must rest upon itself, and must 
not soxmd as if it were up on tip-toe or on stilts ; that tone 
placement is merely a convenient term for naming a natural 

As a final word on this part of the discussion, the student 
should of course be impressed with the idea that though 
these three features of vocal mechanism have been con- 
sidered separately, all ideas about voice are ultimately to 
become one idea. The voice is to be thought of as belonging 
to the whole man, and is to become the spontaneous expres- 
sion of his feelings and will ; it should not draw attention to 
any particular part of the physical man ; whatever number 
of conditions may be considered, the voice is finally to be 
one condition, a condition of normal freedom. 

A lack of freedom is indicated in the voice, as in other 
kinds of mechanism by some sign of friction — by a harsh 
tone from a constrained throat; by a nasal or a muffled 
tone, from some obstruction in the nasal passages of the 
head, either because of abnormal physical conditions, or 
because of an unnatural direction of the breath, mainly due 

A Discussion of Principles 7 

probably to speaking with a closed mouth ; by a bound-up, 
heavy, " chesty " tone, resulting from a labored method of 

Voice in its freer state should be pure, clear, round, fairly 
musical, and fairly deep and rich. Its multitude of expres- 
sive qualities had better be cultivated by the true purpose 
to express, in the simplest way, sentiments appropriated to 
one's self through an understanding and a comprehensive ap- 
preciation of various passages of good literature. As soon 
as possible all technique is to be forgotten, unless the con- 
sciousness is pricked by something going wrong. 

Voices in general need, in the larger development, to be 
rounded. The vowel forms "oo" as in moon, "o" as in 
roll, and "a" as in saw, greatly help in giving a rounded 
form to the general speech ; for all vowels can be molded 
somewhat into the form of these rounder ones. The vowels 
"e" as in meet, "a" as in late, short "e" as in met, short 
"a" as in sat, are likely to be made very sharp, thin, and 
harsh. When a passage for practice begins with round 
vowels, as for example, "Roll on, thou deep and dark blue 
ocean, roll !" the somewhat rounded form of the hps, and 
the opened condition of the throat produced in forming 
the rounder vowels, can be to some extent maintained 
thrpugh the whole of the passage, in forming all the vowels; 
and this will give, by repeated practice, a gradually rounded 
and deepened general character to the voice. On the other 
hand the thinner, sharper vowels may serve to give keen- 
ness and point to tones too thick and dull. In appl3dng 
these suggestions, as well as all other vocal suggestions, 
moderation and good sense must be exercised, for the sake 
of the good outward appearance and the good effect of the 

8 Public Speaking 

speaking. The chief vowel forms running from the deepest 
to the most shallow are: "oo" as in moon, "o" as in roll, 
"a" as in saw, "a" as in far, "a" as in say, "e" as in see. 

Since the making of tones means practically the shaping 
of vowels, something should here be said about vowel 
forms. The mouth opening should of course be freely 
shaped for the best sounding of the vowels. For the vowel 
"a" as in far, the mouth is rather fully opened; for "a" 
as in saw, it is opened deep, that is, the mouth passage is 
somewhat narrowed, so as to allow increased depth. The 
vowel "o," as in no, has two forms, the clear open "o," and 
the "o" somewhat covered by a closer form of the lips. 
Commonly, when the vowel is prolonged, the initial form, 
that is the open "o," is held, with the closed form, like "oo" 
in moon, touched briefly as the tone is finished. So with 
long "i" (y), as in thy, and "ou," as in thou — the first 
form is like a broad "a" as in far, with long "ee" (meet) 
ending the "i" (y), and "oo" (moon) ending the "ou." 
This final soimd, though sometimes accentuated for humor- 
ous effect, is usually not to be made prominent. The sound 
of "oi," as in voice, has the main form of "aw" as in saw, 
and the final form in short "i," as in pin. The vowel "u" 
is sounded like "oo" (moon) in a few words, as in rule, 
truth. Generally, it sounds about like "ew" in new or 
mew. In some of the forms the front of the mouth will be 
open, in some half open, and in some, as in the case of long 
"e" (meet), nearly closed. Whatever the degree of open- 
ing, the jaw should never be allowed to become stiffly 
set, nor the tongue nor lips to be held tight, in any degree 
or way. These faults cause a tightening in the throat, and 
affect the character of the tone. It will generally be of 

A Discussion of Principles 9 

advantage to the tone if the lips are trained to be very 
slightly protruding, in bell shape, and if the comers of the 
mouth be not allowed to droop, but be made very slightly 
to curve upward. The tongue takes of course various posi- 
tions for different vowels. For our purposes, it may be 
sufl&dent to say that it will play its part best if it be not 
stiffened but is left quite free and elastic, perhaps quite re- 
laxed, and if the tip of it be made to play easily down behind 
the lower teeth. 

Since voice has here been discussed in an objective sort 
of way, it is fitting to emphasize the importance of what is 
called naturalness, or more correctly, simpKcity. Every- 
body desires this sort of result. It can readily be seen, 
however, that about everything we do is a second nature ; 
is done, that is to say, in the acquired, acceptable, con- 
ventional way. Voice and speech are largely determined 
by surrounding influences, and what we come to regard as 
natural may be only an acquired bad habit, which is, in fact, 
quite unnatural. Voice should certainly be what we call 
human. Better it should have some human faults than be 
smoothed out into negative perfection, without the true 
ring, the spimk of individuality. There is, nevertheless, a 
best naturalness, or second nature, and a worst. The ob- 
ject of training is to find the best. 

In this discussion of voice some of the ideas often applied 
to the first steps in the cultivation of singing have been- pre- 
sented, as those most effective also for training in speech. 
Although, on the surface, singing and speaking are quite 
different, fundamentally they are the same. Almost all 
persons have, if they will use it, an ear for musical pitch 
and tone, and the neglect to cultivate, in early life, the musi- 

10 Public Speaking 

cal hearing and the singing tone is a mistake. To pro- 
spective public speakers it is something like a misfortime. 
The best speakers have had voices that sang in their speaking. 
This applies distinctly to the speaking, for example, of 
Wendell Phillips, who is commonly called the most collo- 
quial of our public speakers. It has often been commented 
on in the case of Gladstone, and applies peculiarly to some 
of our present-day speakers, who would be called, not ora- 
tors, but impressive talkers. The meaning is, not of course 
that speaking should sound Uke singing, or necessarily hke 
oratory, but that to the trained ear the best speaking has 
fundamentally the singing conditions, and the voice has 
singing quahties; and the elementary exercises designed 
for singing are excellent, in their simpler forms and methods, 
for the speaking voice. 

In carrying out this idea in voice training, the selections 
here given for the earliest exercises, are such as naturally 
call for some slight approach to the singing tone. Some 
are in the spirit and style of song or hymn ; others are in 
the form of address to distant auditors, wherein the reciter 
would call to a distance, or "sing out," as we say. This 
kind of speaking is a way of quickly "bringing out " the voice. 
Young students especially are very apt in this, getting 
the idea at once, though needing, as a rule, special cautions 
and guidance for keeping the proper vocal conditions, so 
as tb prevent "forcing." The passages are simple in spirit 
and form. They carry on one dominant feeling, needing 
little variation of voice. The idea is to render them in a 
way near to the monotone, that the student may learn to 
control one tone, so to speak, or to speak nearly in one key, 
before doing the more varied tones of familiar speech or of 

A Discussion of Principles 11 

complex feeling. We might say the passages are to be 
read in some degree Kke the chant ; but the chant is likely 
to bring an excess of head resonance and is too mechanical. 
The true spirit of the selections is to be given, from the 
first, but reduced to its very simplest form. Difl&culties 
arise, in this first step, in the case of two classes of student : 
those who lack sentiment or imagination, or at least the 
faculty of vocally expressing it, and those with an excess of 
feeling. The former class have to be mentally awakened ; 
for some motive element, aesthetic appreciation or imagina- 
tive purpose, should play a part, as has been said, even in 
technical vocal training. The latter class must be restrained. 
Excessive emotion either chokes off expression, or runs 
away with itself. Calmness, evenness, poise, the easy con- 
trol that comes from a degree of relaxation, without loss of 
buoyancy, — these are the conditions for good accomplish- 
ment of any kind. This self-mastery the high-strung, 
ardent spirit must learn, in order to become really strong. 
This is accomplished, in the case of a nervous temperament, 
not by tightening up and trjdng hard, but by relaxing, by 
letting down. In the use of these passages the voice will 
be set at first slightly high in pitch, in order to help in keep- 
ing a continuous sounding of tone against the roof of the 
mouth and to a proper degree in the head. This average 
pitch, or key, or at least the character of the tone, will be 
maintained without much change, and with special care 
that the tone be kept up in its place at the ends of lines or 
sentences, and be kept well fixed on its breath foundation. 
The simpler inflections indicating the plain meaning, will 
of course be observed, the tone will be kept easily supported 
by the frequently recovered breath that is under it. The 

12 Public Speaking 

back of the mouth will seem to be constantly somewhat 
open. There will be no attempt at special power, but only 
a free, mellow, flowing tone of moderate strength. In the 
exercise each voice will be treated, in detail, according to 
its particular needs, and in each teacher's own way. 

At the time of student life, when physical conditions are 
not matured, the coimsel should repeatedly ■ be given, not 
only that the voice, though used often and regularly, should 
be used moderately, but also that the voice should be kept 
youthful — youthful, if it can be, even in age — but es- 
pecially in youth, whatever the kind of literature used for 
practice. Also youth should be counseled not to try to 
make a voice like the voice of some one else, some speaker, 
or actor, or teacher. It will be much the best if it is just 
the student's own. 


In the earliest exercises here given the tone will be, for 
the best and most immediate effect, kept running on some- 
what in a straight line, so to speak ; will have a certain same- 
ness of sound; will be perhaps somewhat monotonous, 
because kept pretty much in one key, or in one average de- 
gree of pitch. It will perhaps be necessary to make the 
utterance for the time somewhat artificial. The voice is 
in the artificial stage, as is the work of an oarsman, for 
example, in learning the parts of the stroke, or that of a 
golfer in learning the "swing," although in the case of 
some students, when the vocal conditions are good and the 
tone is well balanced, very httle of the artificial process is 
necessary. In that case the voice simply needs, in its pres- 
ent general form, to be developed. 

A Discussion of Principles 13 

The next step in the training is to try a more varied use 
of the voice, without a loss of what has been acquired as to 
formation of tone. The student is to make himself able to 
slide the voice up and down in pitch, by what is called in- 
flection, to raise or lower the pitch by varied intervals, mo- 
mentarily to enlarge or diminish the tone, in expressive 
ways ; in short, to adapt the improved tone, the more ef- 
fective method of voice control, to more varied speech. 
In the early practice for getting tone variation, the student 
must guard most carefully against "forcing." Additional 
difficulties arise when we have vocal changes, and mod- 
erate effort, in the degree of the change, is best. In run- 
ning the tone up, one should let the voice take its own way. 
The tone should not be pushed or held by any slightest 
effort at the throat. The control should, as has been said, 
be far below the throat. In running an inflection from low 
to high, the tone may be allowed, especially in the earlier 
practice, to thin out at the top. And always when the 
pitch is high the tone should be smaller, as it is on a musical 
instrument, though it should have a consistent depth and 
dignity from its proper degree of connection with the chest. 
This consistent character in the upper voice is attained by 
giving the tone a bit of pomp or nobleness of quality. In 
taking a low pitch there is, among novices, always a ten- 
dency to bear down on the tone in order to gain strength 
or to give weight to utterance. The voice is thus crowded 
into, or on, the throat. The voice should never be pushed 
down or pressed back in the low pitch. This practice leads 
to raggedness of tone, and finally to virtual loss of the lower 
voice. The voice should fall of itself with only that de- 
gree of force which is legitimately given by the breath ten- 

14 Public Speaking 

sion, produced easily, though firmly, by the breathing mus- 
cles. Breadth will be given to the tone by some degree of 
expansion at the back of the mouth, or in the pharynx. 
As soon as can be, the speech should be brought down to 
the utmost of simplicity and naturalness, so that the thought 
of literature can be expressed with reality and truth ; can 
be made to soimd exactly as if it came as an mistudied, 
spontaneous expression of the student's own mind, and yet 
so it can be heard, so it will be adequate, so it will be pleas- 
ing in sound. The improved tone is to become the stu- 
dent's inevitable, everyday voice. 


The term entuiciation means the formation of words, 
including right vocal shape to the vowels and right form to 
the consonants. Pronimciation is scholastic, relating to the 
word accent and the vowel sound. Authority for this is in 
the dictionary. Enunciation, belonging to elocution, is 
the act of forming those authorized soimds into finished 

There is a common error regarding emmciation. It is 
usual, if a speaker is not easily understood, to say that he 
should "articulate" more clearly; that is, make the con- 
sonants more pronounced, and young students are thus 
often urged into wrongly directed effort with the tongue and 
lips. Sometimes in books, articulation "stunts," in the 
form of nonsense alliterations, are prescribed, by which 
all the vowels are likely to be chewed into consonants. 
The result is usually an overexertion, and- a consequent 
tightening, of the articulating muscles. At firstj and for a 
time, it may appear that this forcing of the articulation 

A Discussion of Principles 15 

brings the desired result of clearer speech, but it will, in the 
end, be destructive to voice and bring incoherent utter- 
ance. Articulation exercises too difficult for the master, 
should not be given to the novice. All teachers of singing 
train voices, at first, on the vowel, and it should be known 
that, without right vowel, or tone, formation, efforts at 
good articulation are futile. Every technical vocal fault 
must be referred back to the fundamental condition of right 
formation of tone, that is, the vowel. Sputtering, hissing, 
biting, snapping, of consonants is not enunciation. The 
student should learn how without constraint, to prolong 
vowels ; learn, if you please, the fundamentals of singing, 
and articulation, the formation of consonants, the jointing 
of syllables, will become easy. The reason for this is that 
when the vowel tone is rightly produced, all the vocal 
muscles are freed; the tongue, lips, and jaw act without 

The principle of rhythm simphfies greatly the problem 
of enunciation. It is easier, not only to make good tone, 
but also to speak words, in the reading of verse than of 
prose. It is much easier to read a rhythmical piece of 
prose than one lacking in rhythm. All prose, then, should 
be rendered with as much rhythmical flow as is allowed con- 
sistently with its spirit and meaning. Care must be taken 
of course that no singsong effect occurs; that the exact 
meaning receives first attention. In case of long, hard 
words, ease is attained by making a slight pause before the 
word or before its preposition or article or other closely 
attached word, and by giving a strong beat to its accented 
syllable or syllables, with Uttle effort on the subordinate 

16 Public Speaking 

The particular weakness among Americans, in the speak- 
ing of words, is failure adequately to form the nasal, or 
head, soimds. The letters "1," "m," "n," are called vowel 
consonants. They can be given continuous sound, a head 
resonance. This soimding may be carried to a fault, or 
affectation ; but commonly it is insufficiently done, and it 
should be among the first objects of cultivation in vocal 
practice. The humming of these head sounds, with very 
moderate force, is excellent for developing and clearing 
this resonance. The " ng " sound, as in rung, may be added. 

Improper division of words into syllables is a common 
fault. The word "constitution," for example, is made 
" cons-titution," instead of " con-stitution ; " "prin-dple" 
is pronounced "prints-iple." A clean, correct formation 
should be made by slightly holding, and completing the 
accented syllable. The little word "also" is often called 
"als-o" or "als-so" or "alt-so"; chrysanthemum is pro- 
nounced " chrysant-themum " ; coun-try is called "count- 
ry," and so forth. In the case of doubled consonants, as 
in the word "mellow," "commemorate," "bubble," and 
the like, a momentary holding of the first consonant, so 
that a bit of separate impulse is given to the second, makes 
more perfect speaking. There is a slight difference be- 
tween "mel-low" and "mel-ow," "bub-ble" and "bub-le," 
" com-memorate " and " com-emorate." These finer dis- 
tinctions, if one cares to make speech accurate and refined, 
can be observed in words ending in "ence" and "ance" as 
in "guidance" and "credence"; in words with the ending 
"al," "el," or "le," as in "general," "principal," "final," 
"vessel," "rebel," "principle," and "little." If that 
troublesome word "separate" were from the beginning 

A Discussion of Principles 17 

rightly pronounced, it would probably be less often wrongly 
spelled. One should hasten to say, however, that over- 
nicety in enunciation, pedantic exactness, obtrusive "elo- 
cutionary" excellence, or any sort of labored or affected 
effort should be carefully guarded against. The Hne of 
distinction between what is perfect and what is shghtly 
strained is a fine one. Very often, for example, one hears 
such endings as "or" in "creator," "ed" in "dedicated," 
"ess" in "readiness," "men" in "gentlemen," pronounced 
with incorrect prominence. These syllables, being very 
subordinate, should not be made to stand out with undue 
distinctness, and though the vowels sbould not be distorted 
into a wrong form, they should be obscured. In "gentle- 
men," for example, the "e" is, according to the dictionary, 
an "obscure" vowel, and the word is pronounced almost 
as "gentlem'n," — not "gentlemun," of course, but not 
"gentlemen." The fault in such forms is more easily 
avoided by throwing a sharp accent on the accented syl- 
lable, letting the other syllables fall easily out. The ex- 
pression of greeting, "Ladies and gentlemen," should have 
a strong accent on each first syllable of the two important 
words, with little prominence given to other syllables or 
the connecting word; as, "La 'dies 'nd gen'tlem'n." 

In the same class of errors is that of making an extra 
syllable in such words as "even," "seven," "heaven," 
"eleven," and "given," where properly the "e" is elided, 
leaving "ev'n," "heav'n," and so forth. The mouth 
should remain closed when the first syllable is pronounced ; 
the "n" is then simply soimded in the head. The same 
treatment should be given to such words as "chasm" and 
" enthusiasm." If the mouth is opened after the first part of 

18 Public Speaking 

the word is sounded, we have " chas-wm," " enthusias-Min." 
The little words "and," "as," "at" and the like should, 
of course, when not emphatic, be very Hghtly touched, with 
the vowel hardly formed, and the mouth only slightly 
opened. The word "and" is best sounded, where not 
emphatic, with light touch, slight opening of the mouth, 
and hardly any forming of the vowel; almost like "'nd." 
These words should be connected closely with the word 
which follows, as if they were a subordinate syllable of that 

Often we hear such words as "country," "city," and their 
plurals, pronounced "countree," "citee," and "citees"; 
"ladies" is called "ladees." The sound should properly 
be that of short "i" not of long "e." The vowel sound, 
short "a," as in "cast," "fast," "can't," must be treated 
as a locaHsm, and yet it is hardly necessary to adhere to 
any decided extreme because of local associations. Vo- 
cally, the very narrow soimd of short "a," called "Western," 
is impossible. It can't be sung ; in speech it is usually dry 
and harsh. As a matter of taste the very broad sovmd of 
the short "a," when it is made like "a" in "far," is objec- 
tionable because it is extraordinary. There is a form be- 
tween these extremes, the correct short "a " ; this ought to 
be acceptable anywhere. It is suggestive to observe that 
locaUsms are less pronounced among artists than among 
untrained persons. Trained singers and actors belonging 
to different countries or sections of coimtry, show few dif- 
ferences among themselves in Enghsh pronunciation. 
Among localisms the letter "r" causes frequent comment. 
In singing and dramatic speaking, this letter is best formed 
at the tip of the tongue. In common speech it may be 

A Discussion of Principles 19 

made only by a very slight movement at the back of the 
tongue. A decided throaty "burr" should always be 
avoided. In the case of vigorous dramatic utterance, 
the "r" may be quite decidedly rolled, on the principle that, 
in such cases, all consonants become a means of effectiveness 
in expression. In the expression of fine, delicate, or tender 
sentiment, all consonants should be lightly touched or should 
be obscured. Enumeration of the many kinds of careless- 
ness of speech would be to little purpose. Scholarly speech 
requires a knowledge of correct forms, gained from the 
dictionary, and vocal care and skill in making these forms 
clear, smooth, and finished in sound. 

This discussion has perhaps suggested the extreme of 
accuracy in speech. But as has already been said, any de- 
gree of overnicety, of pedantic elegance, of stilted correct- 
ness, is especially irritating to a sensitive ear. Excessive 
biting off of syllables, flipping of the tongue, showing of 
the teeth, twisting of the lips, is carrying excellence to a 
fault. The inactive jaw, tongue, and lips must be made 
mobile, and in the working away of clumsiness and sloven- 
liness of speech, some degree of stiltedness must perhaps, for 
a time, be in evidence, but matured practice ought finally 
to result, not only in accuracy and finish, but in simplicity 
and ease in speaking. 


When the student has made a fair degree of progress in 
the more strictly mechanical features of speech, the forma- 
tion of tone, and the delivery of words, he is ready to give 
himself up more fully to the effective expression of thought. 
Of first importance to the speaker, as it is to the writer, is 

20 Public Speaking 

the way to make himself clear as to his meaning. The 
question has to be put again and again to the yoimg speaker, 
What is your point ? What is the point in the sentence ? 
What is the point in some larger division of the speech? 
What is the point, or purpose, of the speech as a whole ? 
This point, or the meaning of what is said, should be so 
put, should be so clear, that no effort is required of a hs- 
tener for readily apprehending and appreciating it. Dis- 
cussing now only the question of delivery, we say that the 
making of a point depends mainly upon what we commonly 
call emphasis. Extending the meaning of emphasis be- 
yond the hmit of mere stress, or weight, of voice, we may 
define it as special distinctness or impressiveness of effect. 
In the case of a sentence there is often one place where the 
meaning is chiefly concentrated; often the emphasis is 
laid sharply upon two or more points or words in the sen- 
tence; sometimes it is put increasingly on immediately 
succeeding words, called a climax, and sometimes the stress 
of utterance seems to be almost equally distributed through 
all the principal words of the sentence. 

The particular point of a sentence is determined, not so 
much by what the sentence says as it stands by itself, as 
by its relation to what goes before or what follows after. 
The first thing, then, for the student to do is to become sure 
of the precise meaning of the sentence, with reference to 
the general context. Then he must know whether or not 
he says, for the understanding of others, exactly what is 
meant. The means of giving special point to a statement is 
in some way to set apart, or to make prominent, the word 
or words of special significance. There are several ways in 
which this is done. Commonly a stress or added weight 

A Discussion of Principles 21 

of voice is put upon the word; generally, too, there 
is an inflection, a turning of the tone downward or up- 
ward; there is frequently a lengthening out of the vowel 
sound, and a sudden stop after, in some cases before, 
the word. Any or all these special noticeable vocal 
effects serve to draw attention to the word and give it ex- 
pressive significance. These effects are everjrwhere common 
in good everyday speech. In the formal art of speaking, 
they have to be more or less thought out and consciously 

Emphasis is determined by the comparative importance 
of ideas. An idea is important when, being the first to 
arise in the mind, it becomes the motive for utterance. We 
see an object, the idea of high or broad or beautiful arises 
in the mind ; we so form a sentence as to make that idea 
stand forth ; this idea, or the word expressing it, becomes 
vocally emphatic. In this sentence, "He has done it in 
a way to impress upon the Filipinos, so far as action and 
language can do it, his desire, and the desire of our people, 
to do them good," the idea " to do them good" is the one that 
arose first in the mind of the speaker and called up the 
other ideas that served to set this one prominently forth. It 
is the emphatic idea. It should be carried in the mind of the 
student speaker from the beginning of the sentence. Again, 
an idea is important when it arises as closely related to the 
first, and becomes the chief means of giving utterance con- 
cerning the first. This second idea may be something said 
about the first; it may be compared or contrasted with 
the first. Being matched against the first, it may become 
of equal significance with it. "Who is here so base that 
would be a bondman?" Here the idea " base " is used to 

22 Public Speaking 

emphasize the quality of "bondman," and becomes equally 
emphatic with that idea. Other ideas, or other words ex- 
pressing them, being formed around these principal ones, 
will be subordinated or more loosely rim over, since they 
simply serve as the setting for the principal ones, or the 
connecting links, holding them together. Sometimes an 
idea arising in the mind grows in intensity, asserting itself 
by stronger and stronger successive words. For example, 
"He mocks and taunts her, he disowns, insults and flouts 
her"; and, "I impeach him in the name of human na- 
ture itself, which he has cruelly outraged, injured, and 
oppressed, in both sexes in every age, rank, situation, and con- 
dition of life." The impressiveness in delivering these suc- 
cessive words is increased not because they are in the form 
of a climax, but they are in the form of a chmax because the 
thought is so insistent as to require new words for its ex- 
pression. The student will be true and sure in his emphasis 
only when he takes ideas into his mind in the natural way ; 
that is, he should seize upon the central idea before he gives 
utterance to any part of a statement. If that idea is con- 
stantly carried foremost in the mind, he will then, in 
due time, give it its true emphasis. So, in the case of a 
cHmax, he must reahze the spirit and force behind the ut- 
terance, and not depend upon any mechanical process of 
merely increasing the strength of his tones. 

Sometimes emphasis must be made to stand so strong as 
not merely to arrest the movement of thought, and fix the 
mind of the hearer upon a point, but to turn the attention 
of the hearer for the moment aside ; to draw his mind to the 
thought of something very remote in time or place or rela- 
tion, as in the case of making momentary reference to some 

A Discussion of Principles 23 

historic fact or some well-known expression of literature. 
Allusions and illustrations, then, should be given, not only 
with color but also with special emphasis. Byron, contem- 
plating the niins of Rome, calls her "the Niohe of nations." 
The hearer's mind should be arrested, his imagination stirred, 
at that word. Words used in contrast with one another are 
given opposing effect by contrasting emphasis: "Not that 
I loved CcBsar less, but that I loved Rome more." "My 
words fly up; my thoughts remain below." When words 
are used with a double meaning, as in the case of a 
pun, or with a peculiar implication, or are repeated for 
some peculiar effect of mere repetition, — when we have, 
in any form, what is called a play upon words, — a pe- 
culiar pointedness is given, wherein the circumflex in- 
flection plays a large part. "Now is it Rom^ indeed 
and room enough, when there is in it but one only 
man." " I had rather bear with you than hear you ; yet if 
I did bear you, I should bear no cross, for I think you have 
no money in your purse." "But, sir, the Coalition 1 the 
Coalition! Aye, the murdered Coalition!" 

Although, as has been said, the usual method of making 
a point is to give striking force to an idea, very often the 
same effect, or a better effect, is produced by a striking 
sudden suppression of utterance, by way of decided con- 
trast. When the discourse has been running vigorously 
and inflections have been repeatedly sharp and strong, the 
sudden stop, and the stilled utterance of a word, are most 
effective. Only, the suppressed word must be set apart. 
There must be the pause before or after, or both before 
and after. Robert IngersoU, when speaking with great 
animation, would often suddenly stop and ask a question 

24 Public Speaking 

in the quietest and most intimate way. This gave point 
to the question and was impressive. 

We have been considering thus far only primary or prin- 
cipal emphasis. Of equal importance is the question of 
secondary emphasis. The difference in vocal treatment 
comes in regarding the principal emphasis as absolute or 
final, as making the word absolved from, cut off from, the 
rest of the sentence following, and having a final stop or 
conclusive effect, while the secondary may be regarded as 
only relatively emphatic, as being related in a subordinate 
way to the principal, and as maintaining a connection with 
the rest of the sentence, or as hanging upon the words which 
follow, or as being a step leading up to the main idea. The 
vocal indication of this connective principle is the circum- 
flex inflection. The tone will be raised, as in the principal 
emphasis, but instead of being allowed to fall straight to a 
finality, it is turned upward at the finish, to hook on, as it 
were, to the following. The weight of voice will be less 
marked, the inflection less long, and the pause usually less 
decided, than in the case of the primary emphasis. "Re- 
call romance, recite the names of heroes of legend and song, 
but there is none that is his peer." At the words romance 
and song there is a secondary emphasis ; the voice is not 
dropped, it is kept suspended with the pause. 

A common failing among students is an inability to avoid 
a frequent absolute emphatic inflection when it is not in 
place. Many are imable steadily to sustain a sentence till 
the real point is reached. They fail to keep the voice sus- 
pended when they make a pause. It is very important that 
a student should have a sure method of determining what 
the principal emphasis is. He should, as has already been 

A Discussion of Principles 25 

said, follow, in rendering the thought of another, the method 
of the spontaneous expression of his own ideas. He should 
take into his mind the principal idea or ideas, before he 
speaks the words leading thereto. He should then, at 
every pause, keep the thought suspended, incomplete, till 
he reaches that principal idea; he should then make the 
absolute stop, with the effect of finality, afterwards rimning 
off in a properly related way, such words as serve to complete 
the form of expression. Take the following sentence: "I 
never take up a paper full of Congress squabbles, reported 
as if sunrise depended upon them, without thinking of that 
idle English nobleman at Florence, who when his brother, 
just arrived from London, happened to mention the House 
of Commons, languidly asked. Ah ! is that thing still 
going?" It is rather curious that very rarely will a stu- 
dent keep the thought of such a sentence suspended and 
connected until he arrives at the real point at the end. He 
will first say that he never takes up a paper, though of course 
he really does take up a paper. Then he says he never 
takes up this kind of paper; and this he does not mean. 
So he goes on misleading his audience, instead of helping 
them properly to anticipate the form of statement and 
so be prepared for the point at the right moment. He 
should not, as a general rule, let his voice take an absolute 
drop at the places of secondary emphasis. 

In reference to the emphatic point in a larger division of 
the speech, and to the main or climacteric points of the whole 
speech, the principles for emphasis in the sentence are ap- 
plied in a larger way. And the way to make the point is, 
first of all, to think hard on what that point is, what is the 
end or purpose to be attained. If this does not bring the 

26 Public Speaking 

result — and very often it does not — then the mechanical 
means of producing emphasis should be studied and con- 
sciously applied — the increase, or perhaps the diminu- 
tion, of force, the lengthening or shortening of tones on the 
words ; a change in the general level of pitch ; the use of the 
emphatic pause; and a lengthening of the emphatic in- 
flection. A more impressive general effect must, in some 
way, be given to the parts of greater importance. 


Perhaps the most commonly criticized fault among begin- 
ners in speaking is that of monotony. Monotony that 
arises from lack of inflection of voice or from lack of pointed- 
ness or emphasis in a sentence, will presumably be corrected 
in the earlier exercises. The monotony that is caused by 
giving to all sentences an equal value, saying all sentences, 
or a whole speech, in about the same force, rate, and gen- 
eral pitch, is one that may be considered from another point 
of view. One fault in the dehvery of sentences — perhaps 
the most frequent one — is that of running them all off 
in about the same modulation. By modulation we mean 
the wavelike rise and fall of the voice that always occurs in 
some degree in speech, — sometimes called melody — and 
the change of key, or general pitch, in passing from one sen- 
tence, or part of a speech, to another. Frequently, novices 
in speaking and in reading, will swing the voice upward in 
the first part of every sentence, give it perhaps another rise 
or two as the sentence proceeds, and swing it down, always 
in precisely the same way, at the end. The effect of this 
regular rising at the beginning, and this giving of a similar 
concluding cadence at the end, is to make it appear that 

A Discussion of Principles 27 

each sentence stands quite independent of the others, that 
each is a detached statement; and when, besides, each 
sentence is given with about the same force and rate of 
speed, they all seem to be of about equal importance, all 
principal or none principal, but as much alike as Rosahnd's 
halfpence. Sentences that have a close sequence as to 
thought should be so rendered that one seems to flow out 
from the other, without the regular marked rise at the begin- 
ning or the concluding cadence at the end. Sentences, and 
parts of sentences, which are of less importance than others 
with which they are associated, should be made less promi- 
nent in delivery. Often students are helped by the sug- 
gestion that a sentence, or a part of a sentence, or a group 
of sentences, it may be, be dropped into an imdertone, or 
said as an aside, or rapidly passed over, or in some way put 
in the background — said, so to speak, parenthetically. 
Other portions of the speech, or the sentence, the important 
ones, should, on the same principle, be made to stand out 
with marked effect. 

Notice, in the following quotation, how the first and the 
last parts are held together by the pitch or key and the mod- 
ulation of the voice, and the middle part, the group of ex- 
amples, is held together in a different key by being set in 
the background, as being illustrative or probative. "Why, 
all these Irish bulls are Greek, — every one of them. 
Take the Irishman carrying around a brick as a specimen 
of the house he had to sell; take the Irishman who shut 
his eyes, and looked into the glass to see how he would look 
when he was dead ; take the Irishman that bought a crow, 
alleging that crows were reported to Uve two hundred years, 
and he meant to set out and try it. Well, those are all 

28 Public Speaking 

Greek. A score or more of them, of the parallel character, 
come from Athens." 

The speaker shotild cultivate a quick sensitiveness as 
to close unity and slight diversity, as to what is principal 
and what is subordinate, as to what is in the direct, main 
line of thought, and what is by the way, casual, or merely a 
coimecting link. This sense of proportion, of close or re- 
mote relation, of directness and indirectness, the feeling for 
perspective, so-called, can be acquired only by continued 
practice, for sharpening the faculty of apprehension and 
appreciation. It is usually the last attainment in the stu- 
dent's work, but the neglect of it may result in a confirmed 
habit of monotony. The term transition is commonly 
used to denote a passing from one to another of the main 
divisions of the discourse. The making of this transition, 
though often neglected, is not difiicult. The finishing of 
one part and the making of a new beginning on the next, 
usually with some change of standing position, as well as of 
voice, has an obvious method. The slighter transition, or 
variation, within a main division, and the avoidance of the 
slight transition where none should be made, require the 
keener, quicker insight. 

Sentences wiU have many other kinds of variation in de- 
livery according to the nature and value of the thought. 
Some will flow on with high successive waves; some will 
be run almost straight on as in a monotone. Some will be 
on a higher average tone, or in a higher key ; others will be 
lower. Some will have lengthened vowel sound, and will 
be more continuous or sustained, so that groups of successive 
words seem to rim on one unbroken tone; others will be 
abrupt and irregular. Some will be rapid, some slow ; some 

A Discussion of Principles 29 

light, others weighty ; some affected by long pauses, others 
by no pause, and some will be done in a dry, matter-of-fact, 
or precise, or commonplace, or familiar manner, others will 
be touched with feeling, colored by imagination, glowing 
with persuasive warmth, elevated, dignified, or profound. 
A repetition of the selections to be learned, with full ex- 
pression by voice and action, repetition again, and again, 
and again, until the sentiment of them becomes a living 
reality to the speaker, is the only way to acquire the ability 
to indicate to others the true proportions, the relative values, 
and the distinctive character, of what is to be said. 


We are in the habit of distinguishing between what pro- 
ceeds from mere thinking, what is, as we say, purely intel- 
lectual, and what arises more especially from feeling, what 
we call emotional. We mean, of course, that one or the 
other element predominates ; and the distinction is a con- 
venient one. The subject, the occasion, to a great extent 
the man, determine whether a speech is in the main dis- 
passionate or impassioned, whether it is plain or ornate in 
statement, whether it is urgent or aggressive, or calm and 
rather impassive. It would be beyond our purpose to con- 
sider many of the variations and complexities of feeling 
that enter into vocal expression. We call attention to only 
a few of the simpler and more common vocal manifesta- 
tions of feeling, counselhng the student who is to deliver 
a selected speech, to adapt his speaking to the style of that 
speech. In so doing he will get a varied training, and at 
length will find his own most effective style. 

The speech which is matter-of-fact and commonplace 

30 Public Speaking 

only, has characteristically much short, sharp inflection of 
voice, with the rapidly varying intervals of pitch that we 
notice in one's everyday talking. As the utterance takes 
on force, it is Hkely to go in a more direct line of average 
pitch, with stronger inflection on specially emphatic words- 
As it rises to sentiment, the inflections are less marked, and 
in the case of a strain of high, nobler feeling, the voice moves 
on with some approach to the monotone. According as 
feeling is stronger and firmer, as in the expression of courage, 
determination, firm resolve, resistance, intense devotion, 
the voice is kept sustained, with pauses rather abrupt and 
decisive ; if the feeling, though of high sentiment, is tran- 
quil, without aggressiveness, the voice has more of the wave- 
Uke rise and fall, and at the pausing places the tone is gradu- 
ally diminished, rather than abruptly broken off. In the 
case of quickly impulsive, passionate feeUng, the speech is 
likely to be much varied in pitch, broken by frequent abrupt 
stops, and decisive inflections. In the case of the expres- 
sion of tenderness or pathos, there is a Ungering tone, with 
the quahty and inflection of plaintiveness, quahfied, in 
public speech, by such dignity and strength as is fitting. 
In all cases the quahty of voice is of course the main thing, 
and this, not being technical or mechanical, must depend on 
the speaker's entering into the spirit of the piece and giving 
color, warmth, and depth to his tones. The spirit of glad- 
ness or triumph has usually the higher, brighter, ringing 
tone ; that of gravity, solemnity, awe, the lower, darker, 
and less varied tone. 

In the case of the expression of irony, sarcasm, scorn, 
contempt, and kindred feehngs, the circumflex inflection is 
the principal feature. This is the curious quirk or double 

A Discussion of Principles 31 

turn in the voice, that is heard when one says, for example, 
"You're a fine fellow," meaning, "You are anything but 
a fine fellow." In the earlier part of Webster's reply to 
Hayne are some of the finest examples of irony, grim or 
caustic humor, sarcasm, and lofty contempt. They need 
significant turns and plays of voice, but are often spoiled 
by being treated as high declamation. 

In the expression of the various kinds and degrees of 
feeling there may be a fully expressed force or a suppressed 
or restrained force. Often the latter is the more natural 
and effective. This is intense, but not loud, though at 
times it may break through its restraint. It is most fitting 
when the hearers are near at hand, as in the case of a jury 
or judge in court, when the din of loudness would offend. 

The climax is a gradually increasing expression of feeling. 
It may be by a gradual raising of the voice in pitch ; it may 
be by any sort of increasing effectiveness or moving power. 
It is rather difficult to manage, and may lead to some 
strained effort. The speaker should keep a steady, con- 
trolled movement, without too much haste, but rather a 
retarded and broadened utterance as the emphatic point 
is approached; and always the speaker should keep well 
within his powers, maintaining always some vocal reserve. 

The practice of emotional expression gives warmth, mel- 
lowness, sympathy and expansiveness to the voice, and 
must have considerable cultural value. 


A difficult attainment in speaking is that of vividness. 
The student may see the picture in his own mind's eye, but 
his mode of expression does not reveal the fact to others. 

32 Public Speaking 

Imagination in writing he may have, with no suggestion of 
it in the voice. Too often it is erroneously taken for granted 
that the human voice, because it is human, will at any call, 
respond to all promptings of the mind. It will no more do 
so, of course, than the hand or the eye. It must be trained. 
Often it is a case not merely of vocal response, but of men- 
tal awakening as well, and in that case the student must, 
if he can, learn to see visions and dream dreams. 

A way to begia the suiting of speech to imaginative ideas 
is to imitate ; to make the voice sound like the thing to be 
suggested. Some things are fast, some slow, some heavy, 
some light, some dark and dismal, some bright and joyous ; 
some things are noisy, some stiU ; some rattle, others roar ; 
the sea is hoarse ; the waves wash ; the winds blow ; the 
ocean is level, or it dashes high and breaks ; happy things 
sing, and sad things mourn. All life and nature speak just 
as we speak. How easy it ought to be for us to speak just 
as nature speaks. And when our abstract notions are put 
in concrete expression, or presented as a picture, how easy 
it would seem, by these simple variations of voice, to speak 
the language of that picture, telling the length, breadth, 
action, color, values, spirit of it. That it is a task makes it 
worth while. It affords infinite variety, and endless de- 

One necessary element in so-called word-painting is that 
of time. When a speaker expresses himself in pictures for 
the imagination he must give his hearers time to see these 
pictures, and to sufl&ciently see and appreciate the parts, 
or lines of them, and the significance of them. It is a com- 
mon fault to hasten over the language of imagination 
as over the commonplace words. The speaker or reader 

A Discussion of Principles 33 

had better be sure to see the image himself before, and in- 
deed after, he speaks it. Others will then be with him. 
Although among most young speakers the tone of imagina- 
tion is lacking, yet often young persons who become pro- 
ficient vocally are fain greatly to overdo it, till the soimd 
that is suited to the sense becomes sound for its own sake, 
and thereby obscures the sense. Regard for proportion and 
fitness, in relation to the central idea or purpose, should 
control the feeling for color in the detail. 


It should always be borne in mind that gesture means 
the bearing or the action of the whole man. It does not 
mean simply movement of the arm and hand. The prac- 
tice of gesture should be governed by this understanding 
of the term. A thought, an emotion, something that moves 
the man from within, will cause a change, it may be slight, 
or it may be very marked, in eye, face, body. This is ges- 
ture. This change or movement may, from the strength 
of the feeling that prompts it, extend to the arm and hand. 
But this latter movement, in arm and hand, is only the 
fuller manifestation of one's thought or f eehng — the com- 
pletion of the gesture, not the gesture itself. Arm move- 
ment, when not preceded or supplemented by body move- 
ment, or body pose, is obtrusive action ; it brings a member 
of the body into noticeable prominence, attracting the 
auditor's eye and taking his mind from the speaker's 
thought. Better have no gesture than gesture of this land. 
The student, then, should first learn to appreciate the force 
of ideas, to see and feel the full significance of what he would 
say, and indicate by some general movement of body and 

34 Public Speaking 

expression of face, the changing moods of mind. Then 
the arm and hand may come — in not too conspicuous a 
way — to the aid of the body. When Wendell Phillips 
pointed to the portraits in Faneuil Hall and exclaimed : 
"I thought those pictured Hps would have broken into 
voice to rebuke the recreant American, — the slanderer of 
the dead," it was not, we may be sure, the uplifted arm 
alone, but the pose of the man, the something about his 
whole being, which bespoke the spirit within him, and which 
was reaUy the gesture. In less positive or striking degrees 
of action, the body movement wiU, of course, be very slight, 
at times almost imperceptible, but the principle always 
holds, and should be from the first taught. In gesture, the 
bodily man acts as a unit. 

The amount of gesture is, of course, determined by the 
temperament of the speaker, the nature of the speech, the 
character of the audience, and the occasion of the address. 
One speaker will, under certain conditions, gesticulate nearly 
aU the time ; another will, under the same conditions, seem 
seldom to move in any way. The two may be equally ef- 
fective. A speech that is charged with lively emotion will 
usually be accompanied by action ; a speech expressive of 
the profound feeling that subdues to gravity, or resignation, 
would be comparatively without action. The funeral ora- 
tion by Mark Antony is full of action because it is reaUy 
intended to excite the will of his audience; in a fimeral 
address simply expressive of sorrow and appreciation, ges- 
ture would, as a rule, be out of place. A sharply contested 
debate may need action that punctuates and enforces ; the 
pleasantry of after-dinner talk may need only the voice. 
So, one audience, not quick in grasping ideas, may need, 

A Discussion of Principles 35 

both in language and action, much clear, sharp indication 
of the point by illustration, much stirring up by physical 
attack, so to speak, while another audience would be dis- 
pleased by this unnecessary effort to be clear and expres- 
sive. Yet again, given a certain speaker and a certain sub- 
ject and a certain audience, it is obvious that the occasion 
will determine largely how the speaker will bear himself. 
The atmosphere of a college commencement will be different 
from that of a barbecue, and the speaker would, within the 
limits set by his own personahty and his own dignity, adapt 
himself to the one or the other. The general law of ap- 
propriateness and good taste must determine the amount 
of gesture. 

For the purposes of this work there is probably very little, 
if any, value in a strict classification of gestures. It may, 
at times, be convenient to speak of one gesture as merely 
for emphasis, of another as indicating location, of another 
as giving illustration, of one as more subjective, expressing 
a thought that reflects back upon the speaker, or is said 
more in the way of self-communion, of another as objective, 
concerned only with outer objects or with ideas more apart 
from the person or the inward feeling of the speaker. But 
it can easily be shown that one idea, or one dominant feel- 
ing, may be expressed by many kinds of action, in fact, so 
far at least as prescribed movements are concerned, in di- 
rectly opposite kinds, and gesture is so largely a matter of 
the individual, and is governed so much by mixed motive 
and varying circumstance, that the general public speaker 
wiU profit little by searching for its philosophic basis, and 
trying to practice according to any elaborated system. The 
observing of hfe, with the exercise of instinct, taste, sense, 

36 Public Speaking 

above all of honest purpose — these, with of course the 
help of competent criticism, will serve as sufi&dent practical 
guides in the cultivation of expressive action. 

Some observations, or perhaps general principles, may- 
be offered as helpful. When a speaker is concerned with 
driving ideas straight home to his audience, as in putting 
bare fact in a debate, his action will be more direct ; it will 
move in straighter lines and be turned, like his thought, 
more directly upon his audience. As his statement is more 
exactly to a point, so his gesture becomes more pointed 
and definite. When the speaker is not talking to or at his 
audience, to move them to his will, but is rather voicing 
the ideas and feelings already possessed by them, and is in 
a non-aggressive mood, he is likely to use less of the direct 
and emphasis-giving gesture, and to employ principally 
the gesture that is merely illustrative of his ideas, more 
reposeful, less direct, less tense. 

To consider more in detail the principle that the man, 
and not the arm, is the gesture, a man should look what he 
is to speak. The eye should always have a relation to ges- 
ture. The look may be in the direction of the arm move- 
ment or in another direction. No practical rule can be 
given. It can only be said that the eye must play its part. 
Observing actions in real life, we see that when one person 
points out an object to another, he looks now at the object, 
now at the person, as if to guide that person's look. When 
he hears a sound he may glance in the direction of it, but 
then look away to listen. Often a suspended action, with 
a fixed look of the face, will serve to arrest the attention of 
auditors and fix it upon an idea. One should cultivate 
first the look, then the supporting or completing action. 

A Discussion of Principles 37 

As to the movement of the arm and the form of the hand, 
one should be careful not to become stiff and precise by fol- 
lowing exact rules. In general, it may be said that the be- 
ginning of the arm movement, being from the body, is in 
the upper arm ; the finish of it is at the tips of the fingers, 
with the forefinger leading, or bringing the gesture to a 
point. There is generally a slightly flexible, rythmical 
movement of the arm and hand. This should not, as a rule, 
be very marked, and in specially energetic action is hardly 
observable. In this arm action there is an early prepara- 
tory movement, which indicates or suggests, what is com- 
ing. Often a moment of suspense in the preparation en- 
hances the effect of the finish, or stroke, of the gesture, 
which corresponds usually to the vocal emphasis. At the 
final pointing of the action, the hand is, for a moment or for 
moments, fixed, as the mind and the man are fixed, for the 
purpose of holding the attention of the auditor ; then fol- 
lows the recovery, so-called, from the gesture, or it may be, 
the passing to another gesture. And all the while, let it 
again be said, slight changes of bodily pose with proper ad- 
justments of the feet, will make the harmonious, unified 
action. It should be remembered that, as in viewing a 
house or a pifcture we should be impressed by the main 
body and the general effect, rather than by any one feature, 
so on the same principle, no striking feature of a man's 
action should attract attention to itself. On the same prin- 
ciple, no part of the hand should be made conspicuous — 
the thumb or forefinger should not be too much stuck out, 
nor the other fingers, except in pointing, be very much 
curved in. Generally, except in precise pointing, there is a 
graduated curving, not too nice, from the bent httle finger 

38 Public Speaking 

to the straighter forefinger. As the gesture is concerned 
with thought more delicate, the action of the hand is hghter 
and tends more to the tips of the fingers ; as it is more rugged 
and strong, the hand is held heavier. It is bad to carry 
the arm very far back, causing a strained look ; to stretch 
the arms too straight out, or to confine the elbow to the 
side. The elbow is kept somewhat away even in the small- 
est gesture. While action should have nerve, it should 
not become nervous, that is, over-tense and rigid. It 
should be free and controlled, with good poise in the whole 

Before leaving this subject, in its physical aspect, let 
us consider somewhat the matter of standing and moving 
on the platform. Among imperfections as regards position, 
that kind of imperfection which takes the form of perfectly 
fixed feet, strictly upright figure, hands at the side, head 
erect, and eyes straight — of all bad kinds, this kind is 
the worst. This is often referred to as school declama- 
tion, or the speaking of a piece. We have discarded 
many old ideas of restriction in education. Let us discard 
the strait-jacket in platform speaking. Nobody else ever 
speaks as students are often compelled to speak. Let 
them speak Hke boys — not like men even — much less 
like machines. There is of course a good and a bad way 
of standing and moving, but much is due to youth, to in- 
dividuality, and to earnest intention, and a student should 
have free play in a large degree. 

In walking, the step should neither be too fast nor too 
slow, too long nor too short, too much on the heel or too 
much on the toe. A simple, straightforward way of get- 
ting there is all that is wanted. The arms are left to swing 

A Discussion of Principles 39 

easily, but not too much ; nor should one arm swing more 
than the other. The head, it will be noted, may occasion- 
ally rise and fall as one goes up or down steps or walks the 
platform. Before beginmng to speak, one should not 
obviously take a position and prepare. He should easily 
stop at his place, and, looking at his auditors, begin simply 
to say something to them. As to the feet, they wUl, of 
course, be variously placed or adjusted according to the 
pose of the body in the varying moods of the speech. In 
general, the body will rest more on one foot than on the 
other. In a position of ease, as usually at the begirming of 
a speech, one foot will bear most of the weight. In this 
case, this foot will normally be pointed nearly to the front ; 
the other foot will be only very slightly in advance of this 
and will be turned more outward. The feet wiU not be 
close together ; nor noticeably far apart. They need not 
— they had better not — as it is sometimes pictured in 
books, be so set that a line passing lengthwise through the 
freer foot will pass through the heel of the other foot. As a 
man becomes earnest in speaking, his posture wiU vary, 
and often he will stand almost equally on his two feet. In 
changing one's position, it is best to acquire the habit of 
moving the freer foot, the one lighter on the floor, first, 
thus avoiding a swaying, or toppUng look of the body. 

In connection with the subject of standing, naturally 
comes the question of the arms in the condition of inaction. 
It is possibly well to train one's self, when learning to speak, 
to let the arms hang relaxed at the side, but speakers do not 
often so hold the arms. Usually there is a desk near, and 
the speaker when at rest drops one hand upon this, or he 
lets one arm rest at the waist, or he brings the two hands 

40 Public Speaking 

together. Any of these things may be done, if done simply, 
easily, without nervous tightening, or too frequent shift- 
ing. One thing, for practical reasons, should not be al- 
lowed, the too common habit of clasping the hands behind 
the back. It wiU become a fixed mannerism, and a bad 
one, for the hands are thus concealed, the shoxilders and 
head may droop forward, and the hands may be so tightened 
together behind the back as to cause nervous tension in the 
body and in the voice. The hands should be in place ready 
for expressive action. The back is not such a place. 

Nearly every movement that a man makes ia speaking 
should have some fitting relation to what he is at the mo- 
ment saying. These movements wUl then be varied. 
When certain repeated actions, without this proper rela- 
tion, are acquired, they are called mannerisms. They have 
no meaning, and are obtrusive and annoying. Repeated 
jerking or bobbing of the head, for a supposed emphasis; 
regularly turning the head from side to side, for addressing 
all the audience; nervous shaking of the head, as of one 
greatly in earnest; repeated, meaningless punching or 
pounding of the air, always in the same way ; shifting of one 
foot regularly backward and forward; rising on the toes 
with each emphatic word, — although single movements 
similar to these often have appropriate place, none of these 
or others should be allowed to become fixed mannerisms, 
habitually recurring movements, without a purpose. We 
are sometimes told that certain maimeristic ways are often 
a speaker's strength. Probably this is at least half true. 
But eccentricities should not be cultivated or indulged. 
They will come. We should have as few as possible, or 
they won't count. One thing, however, should here be 

A Discussion of Principles 41 

said. Positive strength, with positive faults, is much bet- 
ter than spiritless inoffensiveness. One should not give 
all his'attention to the avoiding of faults. 

In the application of gesture to the expression of ideas, 
one is helped, as has been said, by constantly heeding the 
general principle of stiiting the form of the gesture to the 
nature of the thought, or of suiting the action to the word. 
Inasmuch as gesture so generally takes the form of objects 
or actions, it is undoubtedly easier to begin with the more 
concrete in language, or with the discussion of tangible ob- 
jects, and work from these to the more abstract and re- 
motely imaginary — from the more, to the less, f amihar. 
Let the student indicate the location, or the height, or the 
width, or the form of an object. His action will probably 
be appropriate. Let him apply similar, probably less defi- 
nite, action to certain abstract ideas. Let him pass to ideas 
more remote and vague, by action largely suggestive, not 
definite or literal. 

The most important, because the most fimdamental, 
principle to be borne in mind is that gesture should be made 
to enforce, not the superficial, or incidental, ideas appear- 
ing in a statement, but the ideas which He behind the form 
of expression and are the real basis, or inhere in the funda- 
mental purpose, of the speaker's discourse. 

At the close of Senator Thurston's speech on interven- 
tion in behalf of Cuba, there is picturesque language for 
impressing the contention that force is justified in a worthy 
cause. The speaker cites graphically examples of force at 
Bunker Hill, Valley Forge, Shiloh, Chattanooga, and Look- 
out Heights. The student is here very Kkely to be led 
astray by the fine opportunity to make gesture. He may 

42 Public Speaking 

vividly see and picture the snows of Valley Forge, marked 
with bloodstained feet, and the other scenes suggested, 
but forget about the central idea, the purpose behind 
all the vivid forms of expression. Graphic, detailed 
gestures may have the effect of making the pictures in 
themselves the main object. The action here should be 
informal, imstudied, and merely remotely suggestive. 
The speaker should keep to his one central idea, and 
keep with his audience. Otherwise the speech will be 
insincere and purposeless, perhaps absurd. The funda- 
mental, not the superficial, should determine the action. 
Yoimg speakers almost invariably pick out words or phrases, 
suggesting the possibility of a gesture, and give exact illus- 
tration to them, as if the excellence of gesture were in it- 
self an object, when really the thing primarily to be enforced 
is not these incidental features in the form of expression, 
but the underlying idea of the whole passage. It is as if 
the steeple were made out of proportion to the church, or a 
hat out of proportion to the man. This misconception of 
what gesture really means is doubtless, in large measure, 
the cause of making platform recitation often false and 
offensive. The remedy does not lie in omitting gesture 
altogether, as some seem to think, but in making gesture 
simple and true. 

Finally, let the student remember that he goes to the 
platform, not to make a splendid speech and receive praise 
for a brilliant exhibition of his art, but that he goes there 
because the platform is a convenient place from which to 
tell the people something he has to say. Let him think 
it nothing remarkable that he should be there ; let him so 
bear himself, entering with simplicity, honesty, earnest- 

A Discussion of Principles 43 

ness, and modesty, into his work, that no one will think 
much about how his work is done. Spirited oratory, with 
the commanding presence, the sweeping action, and an 
overmastering force of utterance, may at times be called 
forth, but these are given to a man out of his subject and 
by the occasion ; they are not to be assumed by him merely 
because he is before an audience, or as necessary features 
of speech-making. Let the student speak, first and always, 
as a self-respecting, thinking man, earnest and strong, but 
self-controlled and sensible. 

Platform Practice 

the formal address 

The selections in the several sections for platform prac- 
tice are to be used for applying, in appropriate combina- 
tion, the principles heretofore worked out, one by one. The 
first group provides practice in the more formal style. The 
occasion of the formal address reqmres, in large degree, 
restraint and dignity. The thought is elevated ; the mood 
serious, in some cases subdued, the form of expression exact 
and firm. The delivery should correspond. The tone 
should be, in some degree, ennobled; the movement de- 
liberate, and comparatively even and measured ; the modu- 
lation not marked by striking variations in pitch; the 
pauses rather regular, and the gesture always sparing, per- 
haps wholly omitted. The voice shoxild be generally pure 
and fine; the enunciation should be finished and true. 
Whatever action there may be should be restrained, well 
poised, deliberate, with some degree of grace. In general 
it should be felt that carelessness or looseness or aggressive- 

44 Public Speaking 

ness or imdue demonstrativeness would be out of harmony 
with the spirit of the occasion. Good taste must be exer- 
cised at every step, and the audience should be addressed, 
from the outset, as in sympathy with the speaker and ready 
at once to approve. The spirit and manner of contention 
is out of place. 

In this style of discourse the liability to failure lies in the 
direction of dullness, monotony, lack of vitality and warmth. 
This is because the feeling is deep and still; is an imder- 
current, strong but unseen. This restrained, repressed 
feeling is the most difficult fittingly to express. In this 
kind of speech some marring of just the right effect is diffi- 
cult to avoid. SimpHcity, absolute genuineness, are the 
essential quahties. The ideas must be conveyed with 
power and significance, in due degree; but nothing too 
much is particularly the watchword regarding the outward 
features of the work. 


In the public lecture the element of entertainment en- 
ters prominently. The audience, at first in a passive state, 
must be awakened, and taken on with the speaker. Prob- 
ably it must be instructed, perhaps amused. The speaker 
must make his own occasion. He has no help from the 
circumstance of predisposition among his auditors. He 
must compel, or he must win; he must charm or thrill; 
or he must do each in turn. Animation, force, beauty, 
dramatic contrast, vividness, variety, are the qualities that 
will more or less serve, according to the style of the composi- 
tion. Aptness in the story or anecdote, facihty in graphic 
illustration, readiness in expressing emotion, happiness in 

A Discussion of Principles 45 

the imitative faculty, for touching off the eccentric in char- 
acter or incident, are talents that come into play, and in the 
exercise of these, gesture of course has an important place. 

The lecture platform is perhaps the only field, with possi- 
bly the exception of what is properly the after-dinner speech, 
wherein pubHc speaking may be viewed as strictly an art, 
something to be taken for its own sake, wherein excellence 
in the doing is principally the end in view. This means, 
generally, that individual talent, and training in all artistic 
requirements, count for more than the subject or any "acci- 
dents of office," in holding the auditor's interest. An ani- 
mated and versatile style can be cultivated by striving to 
make effective the public lecture. 


Informal discussion is the name chosen for the lecture 
or talk in the club or the classroom. It impHes a rather 
small audience and familiar relations between audience and 
speaker. While the subject may be weighty, and the lan- 
guage may be necessarily of the hterary or scientific sort, 
the style of speaking should be colloquial. It ought to bring 
the hearer pretty near to the speaker. If the subject and 
language are light, the speaking will be sprightly and com- 
paratively swift. 

Since the occasion for this kind of speaking is frequent, 
and the opportunity for it is likely to fall to almost any edu- 
cated man, proficiency in it might well be made an object 
in the course of one's educational training. The end aimed 
at is the ability to talk well. This accompKshment is not 
so easy as it may seem. It marks, indeed, the stage of 
maturity in speech-making. Since authoritative opinion 

46 Public Speaking 

from the speaker and interest in the subject on the part 
of the audience are prime elements in this form of discus- 
sion, little cultivation of form is usually given to this kind 
of speaking. The result is much complaining from audi- 
tors about inaudibleness, dullness, monotony, annoying 
mannerisms, or a too formal, academic tone that keeps the 
audience remote, a lack of what is called the human quality. 
A good talker from the desk not only has the reward of ap- 
preciation and gratitude, but is able to accomplish results 
in full proportion to all that he puts into the improvement 
of his vocal work. An agreeable tone, easy formation of 
words, clear, well-balanced emphasis, good phrasing, or 
grouping of words in the sentence, some vigor without con- 
tinual pounding, easy, unstudied bodily movement with- 
out manneristic repetition of certain motions, in short, 
good form without any obtrusive appearance of form, — 
these are the quaUties desired. 


In the case of the forensic, we come nearer to the practi- 
cal in public speaking. The speaker aims, as a rule, to 
effect a definite purpose, and he concentrates his powers 
upon this immediate object. Since the speech is for the 
most part an appeal to the reason, and therefore deals 
largely with fact and the logical relations of ideas, precision 
and clearness of statement are the chief qualities to be culti- 
vated. But since the aim is to overcome opposition, and 
produce conviction, and so to impress and stir as to affect 
the will to a desired action, the element of force, and the 
moving quahty of persuasion enters in as a reenforcement 
of the speaker's logic. Generally the speech is very direct, 

A Discussion of Principles 47 

and often it is intense. It has in greater degree than any other 
form the feature of aggressiveness. Some form of attack is 
adopted, for the purpose of overthrowing the opposing force. 
That attack is followed up in a direct line of argument, and 
is carried out to a finish. In delivery the continuous line 
of pursuit thus followed often naturally leads to a kind of 
effective monotone style, wherein the speaker keeps an even 
force, or strikes blow after blow, or sends shot after shot. 
The characteristic feature of the forensic style is the cH- 
max — cUmax in brief successions of words, cUmax in the 
sentence, cHmax in giving sections of the speech, climax in 
the speech as a whole. 

Special notice should be taken of the fact that, in earnest 
argument, sentences have, characteristically, a different 
run from that in ordinary expository speaking. Whereas 
in the expository style the sentence flows, as a nile, easily 
forth, with the voice rising and falling, in an xmdulatory 
sort of way, and dropping restfuUy to a finish, in the heated 
forensic style, the sentence is given the effect of being sent 
straight forth, as if to a mark, with the last word made the 
telling one, and so kept well up in force and pitch. The 
accumulating force has the effect of sending the last word 
home, or of making it the one to clinch the statement. 

The dangers to be guarded against in debate are wearying 
monotony, over-hammering — too frequent, too hard, too 
uniform an emphasis — too much, or too continued heat, 
too much speed, especially in speaking against time, a loss 
of poise in the bearing, a halting or jumbHng in speech, ner- 
vous tenseness in action, an overcontentious or bumptious 
spirit. Bodily control, restraint, good temper, balance, 
are the saving qualities. A debater must remember that 

48 Public Speaking 

he need not be always in a heat. Urbanity and gracious- 
ness have their place, and the relief afforded by humor is 
often welcome and effective. 

In no form of speaking, except that of dramatic recita- 
tion, is the liability to impairment of voice so great as it is 
in debating. One of the several excellent features of de- 
bating is that of the self-forgetfulness that comes with an 
earnest struggle to win. But perhaps a man cannot safely 
forget himself imtil he has learned to know himself. The 
intensity of debating often leads, in the case of a speaker 
vocally untrained, to a tightening of the throat in striving 
for force, to a stiffening of the tongue and Hps for making 
incisive articulation, to a rigidness of the jaw from shut- 
ting down on words to give decisive emphasis. Soon the 
voice has the juice squeezed out of it. The tone becomes 
harsh and choked ; then ragged and weak. The only rem- 
edy is to go straight back and begin all over, just as a golfer 
usually does when he has gone on without instruction. 
The necessity of going back is often not realized till later in 
life ; then the process is much harder, and perhaps can never 
be entirely effective. The teacher in the course of his ex- 
perience meets many, many such cases. The time to learn 
the right way is at the beginning. 

Among the selections here offered for forensic practice, 
examples in debate serve for the cultivation of the aggres- 
siveness that comes from immediate opposition ; examples 
in the political speech for acquiring the abandon and enthu- 
siasm of the so-called popular style ; in the legal plea for 
practice in suppressed force. In the case of the last of these, 
it is well that the audience be near to the speaker, as is the 
case in an address to a judge or jury. The idea is to be 

A Discussion of Principles 49 

forcible without being loud and high; to cultivate a sub- 
dued tone that shall, at the same time, be vital and impres- 
sive. The importance of a manner of speaking that is not 
only clear and effective, but also agreeable, easy to hsten 
to, is quite obvious when we consider the task of a judge or 
a jury, who have to sit for hours and try to carry in their 
minds the substance of all that has been said, weighing 
point against point, balancing one body of facts against 
another. A student can arrange nearly the same conditions 
as to space, and can, by exercise of imagination, enter into 
the spirit of a legal conflict. 


After-diimer speaking is another form that many men 
may have an opportunity to engage in. It can also be 
practiced under conditions resembhng those of the actual 
occasion, that is, members of the class can be so seated 
that the speaking may become intimate in tone, and 
speeches can be selected that will serve for ciiltivating that 
distinctive, sociable quaHty of voice that, in itself, goes far 
in contributing to the comfort and delight of the after-din- 
ner audience. The real after-dinner speech deals much in 
pleasantry. The tone of voice is characteristically unc- 
tuous. Old Fezziwig is described by Dickens as calling out 
"in a comfortable, rich, fat, jovial, oily voice." Something 
like this is perhaps the ideal after-dinner voice, although 
there is a dry humor as well as an unctuous, and each 
speaker will, after all, have his own way of making his 
hearers comfortable, happy, and attentive. Ease and 
deliberation are first requisites. Nervous intensity may not 
so much mar the effect of earnest debate. The social chat 

50 Public Speaking 

is spoiled by it. Humor, as a rule, requires absolute restf ul- 
ness. Especially should a beginner guard himself against 
haste in making the point at the finish of a story. It does 
no harm to keep the hearer waiting a bit, in expectation. 
The effect may be thus enhanced, while the effect will be 
entirely lost if the point, and the true touch, are spoiled 
by imcontrolled haste. The way to gain this ease and con- 
trol is not by stiffening up to master one's self, but by 
relaxing, letting go of one's self. Practice in the speech of 
pleasantry may have great value in giving a man repose, 
in giving him that saving grace, an appreciation of the hu- 
morous, in affording him a means of reUef or enKvenment 
to the serious speech. 


The occasional poem is so frequently brought forth in 
connection with speech-making that some points regarding 
metrical reading may be quite in place in a speaker's train- 
ing. Practice in verse reading is of use also because of the 
frequency of quoted lines from the poets in connection with 
the prose speech. 

To read a poem well one must become in spirit a poet. 
He must not only think, he must feel. He must exercise 
imagination. He must, we will say it again, see visions 
and dream dreams. What was said about vividness in the 
discussion of expressional effects apphes generally to the 
reading of poetry. One will read much better if he has tried 
to write — in verse as well as in prose. He will then know 
how to put himself in the place of the poet, and will not be 
so likely to mar the poet's verses by "reading them ill- 
favoredly." He will know the value of words that have 

A Discussion of Principles 51 

been so far sought, and may not slur over them; he may 
feel the sound of a line formed to suggest a sound in nature. 
He will know that a meter has been carefully worked out, 
and that, in the reading, that meter is of the spirit of the 
poem ; it is not to be disregarded. Likewise he will appre- 
ciate the place of rhyme, and may not try so to cover it up 
as entirely to lose its effect. In hmnorous verse, especially, 
rhjone plays an effective part ; and in all verse, alliteration, 
variations in melody, the lighter and the heavier touch, 
acceleration and retard in movement, the caesura, or pause 
in the Hne, and the happy effect of the occasional cadence, 
are features which one can come to appreciate and respect 
only with reading one's favorite poems many times, with 
spirit warm, with faculties alert. 


Although the use of selected speeches is best for effective 
drill in dehvery, yet a student's training for pubhc speaking 
is of course not complete until he has had experience in 
applying his acquired skill to the presenting of his own 
thought. Thinking and speaking should be made one oper- 
ation. The principles of composition for the pubhc speech 
belong to a separate work. A few hints only can be given 
here, and these will be concerned with the informal, off- 
hand speech rather than with the formal address. 

The usual directions regarding the choosing of the sub- 
ject, the collecting of material, and the arranging of it in 
the most effective order, with exceptions and variations, 
hold in all forms of the speech. The subject chosen shoidd 
be one of special interest to the speaker, one on which it is 
known he can speak with some degree of authority, because 

52 Public Speaking 

of his personal study of it, or because of his having had 
exceptional personal relations with it. It must also be, 
because of the nature of it, or because of some special treat- 
ment, of particular interest to the audience to be addressed. 
Either new, out-of-the-way subjects, or new, fresh phases 
of old subjects are usually interesting. The subject must 
be hmited in its comprehensiveness to suit the time al- 
lowed for speaking, and the title of the speech should be so 
phrased as to indicate exactly what the subject, or the part 
of a subject, is to be. To this carefully Hmited and defined 
subject, the speaker should rigidly adhere. 

How to find a subject is generally a topic on which stu- 
dents are advised. Though it is often a necessity to hunt 
for a suitable special topic on which to speak, the student 
should know that when he gets outside the classroom, he will 
find that he will not be invited to speak because he is ready at 
finding subjects and clever in speech. It is not strange, in 
view of the many advertisements that reach young men, 
offering methods of home training, or promising sure success 
from this or that special method of schooHng, that they may 
come to believe that any one has only to learn to stand up 
boldly on a platform, and with voice and gesture exercise 
some mysterious sort of magical control over an audience, 
and his success as an orator is secure. They will fitnd that 
their time and money have been wasted, so far as public 
speaking is concerned, unless, having at the start some native 
ability, they have secured, in addition, a kind of training that 
is fundamental. A man is wanted as a speaker primarily 
because he stands for something ; because he has done some 
noteworthy work. His subjects for discussion arise out 
of his personal interests, and, to a large extent, his method 

A Discussion of Principles 53 

of treatment will be determined by his relation to these sub- 
jects. A yomig man may well be advised, then, not simply 
how to choose and how to present a subject, but first to 
secure a good mental training, and then to find for himself 
an aU-absorbing work to do. The wisdom that comes from 
a concentrated intellectual activity, and an interest in 
men's affairs, both directed to some imselfish end, is the 
essential qualification of the speaker. 

In considering the arrangement of a speech, the student 
wiU do well to ask himself first, not what is to be the be- 
ginning of it, but what is to be the end of it ; what is the 
purpose of it; and what shall be the central idea; what 
impression, or what principal thought or thoughts, shall be 
left with the audience. When this is determined, then a 
way of working out this central idea or of working up to it 
— in a short speech, by a few points only — must be care- 
fully and thoroughly planned. Extemporaneous speaking 
is putting spontaneously into words what has previously 
been well thought out and well arranged. Without this 
state of preparation, the way of wisdom is silence. 

The language of a speech is largely determined by the 
man's habit of mind, the nature of his subject, and the 
character of his audience. Students often err in one of two 
directions, either by being too bookish in language or by 
allowing the other extreme of looseness, weak colloquialism 
in words, and formless monotony of sentence, with the end- 
less repetition of the connective "and." Language should 
be fresh, vital, varied. It should have some dignity. 
Much reading, writing, and speaking are necessary to secure 
an adequate vocabulary, and a readiness in putting in firm 
form a variety of sentences. Concreteness of expression 

54 Public Speaking 

and occasional illustration are mor6 needed in speech than 
in writing, and the brief anecdote or story is welcome and 
useful if there is room for it, and if it comes unbidden, by 
virtue of its fitness and spontaneity, and is not drawn in 
by the ears for half-hearted service. The inevitable story 
at the opening of an after-dinner speech might often be 
spared. Although a good story is in itself enjoyable, yet 
when a speaker feels that he must make one fit into the 
speech, whether or no, by appljdng it to himself or his sub- 
ject or the occasion, the effect is often very unhappy. A 
man is best guided in these things simply by being true, by 
being sincere rather than artful. 

On this same principle, a student may need some advice 
with regard to his spirit and manner in giving expression to 
his own ideas before an audience. He need not, as students 
often seem to think they must, appear to have full knowl- 
edge or final judgment on the largest of subjects. It is 
more fitting that he should speak as a student, an inquirer, 
not as an authority. If his statements are guarded and 
qualified ; if he speaks as one only inclined to an opinion 
when finality of judgment is obviously beyond his reach ; 
if he directly refers, and defers, to opinions that must be 
better than his can be, his speech will have much more 
weight, and he will grow in strength of character by always 
being true to himself. It is a question whether students 
are not too often inspired to be bold and absolute, for the 
sake of apparent strength in speaking, rather than modest 
and judicious and sensible, for the sake of being strong as 

In the form of delivering one's thought to an audience, 
it is of the first importance that one should speak and not 

A Discussion of Principles 55 

declaim. There is, of course, a way of talking on the plat- 
form that is merely negatively good, a way that is fitting 
enough in general style, but weak. There should be 
breadth, and strength, and reach. But this does not mean 
any necessity of sending forth pointless successive sentences 
over the heads of an audience. A college president re- 
cently said, "Our boys declaim a good deal, though they're 
not so bad as they used to be. It seems to me," he added, 
"that the idea is to say something to your audience." 
That is what a teacher must be continually insisting on, 
that the student say something to somebody, not chant or 
declaim into space. And the student should be continually 
testing himself on this point, whether he is looking into the 
faces of his hearers and speaking, though on a larger scale, 
yet in the usual way of communicating ideas. 

It is not desirable that men should become overready 
speakers. Methods of training in extemporaneous dis- 
cussion that require speaking without thought, on any- 
thing or nothing that can be at the moment invented, are 
likely to be mischievous. Thought suggests expression, 
and exact thought will find fit form. Sound thinking is 
the main thing. Practice for mere fluency tends to the 
habit of superficial thinking, and produces the wearisome, 
endless talker. In this connection emphasis may be laid 
upon the point of ending a speech when its purpose is ac- 
complished, and that as soon as can be. Many speeches 
are spoiled by the last third or quarter of them, when a 
point well made has lost its effect by being overenforced or 
obscured by a wordy conclusion. Let the student study 
for rare thought and economy of speech. 

Books on speaking have repeatedly insisted that after 

56 Public Speaking 

all has been said, the public speaker's word will be taken 
for what he is known to be worth as a man ; that his utter- 
ances will have effect according as they are given out with 
soul-felt earnestness. This has already been touched upon 
here, and it is well that it should be often repeated. It may 
be well, however, also to consider quite carefully what part 
is played in men's efforts by the element of skiU. Of two 
equally worthy and equally earnest men, the man of the 
superior skill, acquired by persistent training in method, 
will be the stronger man, the man who will be of more 
service to his fellows. More than this, inasmuch as public 
men can seldom be perfectly known or judged as to charac- 
ter, and may often, for a time at least, deceive, it is quite 
possible that the unscrupulous man with great skill will, at 
some moment of crisis, make the worse appear to be the 
better cause. Equally skilled men are therefore wanted 
to contend for the side of right. The man whose service 
to men depends largely upon his power of speech — in 
the pulpit, at the bar, or in non-professional capacity — 
must have, either from gift or from training, the speaker's 
full equipment, for matching himself against opposing 


Establishing the Tone 


From " The Cotter's Saturday Night " 
By Robert Burns 

O Scotia ! my dear, my native soil ! 

For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent, 
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil 

Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! 

And oh ! may Heaven their simple lives prevent 
From luxury's contagion, weak and vile! 

Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, 
A virtuous populace may rise the while, 
And stand a wall of fire aroimd their much-loved isle. 

O Thou! who poured the patriotic tide, 

That streamed through Wallace's undaunted heart, 
Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride. 

Or nobly die, the second glorious part, 

(The patriot's God, peculiarly Thou art, 
His friend, inspirer, guardian and reward!) 

Oh never, never, Scotia's realm desert ; 
But still the patriot, and the patriot bard, 
In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard ! 


58 Public Speaking 


From " Childe Harold's Pilgrimage " 
By Loed Byron 

ORome! my country! city of the soul! 
The orphans of the heart must turn to thee, 
Lone mother of dead empires ! and control 
In their shut breasts, their petty misery. 
What are our woes and sufferance ? — Come and see 
The cypress, hear the owl, and plod your way 
O'er steps of broken thrones and temples. Ye! 
Whose agonies are evils of a day : — 
A world is at our feet as fragile as our clay. 

The Niobe of nations ! there she stands, 
Childless and crownless, in her voiceless woe ; 
An empty urn within her withered hands, 
Whose holy dust was scattered long ago ; — 
The Scipios' tomb contains no ashes now ; 
The very sepulchers lie tenantless 
Of their heroic dwellers : — dost thou flow, 
Old Tiber ! through a marble wilderness ? 
Rise, with thy yellow waves, and mantle her distress! 


From " In Memoriam " 
By Alfred Lord Tennyson 

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, 
The fl3dng cloud, the frosty light ; 
The year is dying in the night ; 
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. 

Establishing the Tone 59 

Ring out the old, ring in the new, 
Ring, happy bells, across the snow ; 
The year is going, let him go ; 
Ring out the false, ring in the true. 

Ring out the grief that saps the mind, 
For those that here we see no more ; 
Ring out the feud of rich and poor. 
Ring in redress to all mankind. 

Ring out a slowly dying cause, 
And ancient forms of party strife ; 
Riog in the nobler modes of life. 
With sweeter manners, purer laws. 

Ring out the want, the care, the sin, 
The faithless coldness of the times ; 
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, 
But ring the fuller minstrel in. 

Ring out false pride in place and blood, 
The civic slander and the spite ; 
Ring in the love of truth and right, 
Ring in the common love of good. 


From " ChUde Harold's Pilgrimage " 

By Lord Byron 

Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll ! 

Ten thousand fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 
Man marks the earth with ruin — his control 

Stops with the shore : upon the watery plain, 

60 Public Speaking 

The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain, 
A shadow of man's ravage, save his own. 

When for a moment, like a drop of rain. 
He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan. 
Without a grave, unknell'd, imcoffin'd, and unknown. 

The armaments, which thunderstrike the walls 
Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, 

And monarchs tremble in their capitals ; 
The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make 

Their clay creator the vain title take 
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; 

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, 
They melt into thy yeast of waves, which mar 
AUke th' Armada's pride or spoils of Trafalgar. 

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee : 

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage, — what are they ? 
Thy waters wasted them while they were free. 

And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey 
The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay 

Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou ; 
Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves play, 

Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow ; 

Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou roUest now. 

And I have loved thee, Ocean! and my joy 
Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 

Borne, like thy bubbles, onward: from a boy 
I wanton'd with thy breakers — they to me 

Were a delight; and if the freshening sea 
Made them a terror — 'twas a pleasing fear. 

Establishing the Tone 61 


From " The Building of the Ship," by permission of, and by special arrange- 
ment with, Houghton MiflBin Company, authorized publishers 
of this author's works 

By Henry W. Longfellow 

Sail forth into the sea, O ship! 

Through wind and wave, right onward steer ! 

The moistened eye, the trembling lip, 

Are not the signs of doubt or fear. 

Sail forth into the sea of hfe, 
O gentle, loving, trusting wife, 
And safe from all adversity 
Upon the bosom of that sea 
Thy comings and thy goings be ! 
For gentleness and love and trust 
Prevail o'er angry wave and gust ; 
And in the wreck of noble lives 
Something immortal still survives ! 

Thou, too, sail on, Ship of State ! 
Sail on, Union, strong and great ! 
Humanity with all its fears. 
With all the hopes of future years, 
Is hanging breathless on thy fate ! 
We know what Master laid thy keel, 
What Workmen wrought thy ribs of steel, 
Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, 
What anvils rang, what hammers beat, 
In what a forge and what a heat 
Were shaped the anchors of thy hope ! 
Fear not each sudden sound and shock, 
'Tis of the wave and not the rock ; 

62 Public Speaking 

'Tis but the flapping of the sail, 

And not a rent made by the gale ! 

In spite of rock and tempest's roar, 

In spite of false lights on the shore, 

Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea ! 

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears. 

Are all with thee, — are all with thee ! 


From " Horatius " 
By Loed Macaulay 

"O Tiber, Father Tiber ! 

To whom the Romans pray, 
A Roman's life, a Roman's arms, 

Take thou in charge this day !" 
So he spake, and, speaking, sheathed 

The good sword by his side. 
And, with his harness on his back, 

Plunged headlong in the tide. 

No soimd of joy or sorrow 

Was heard from either bank. 
But friends and foes in dumb surprise, 
With parted lips and straining eyes. 

Stood gazing where he sank ; 
And when above the surges 

They saw his crest appear. 
All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, 
And even the ranks of Tuscany 

Could scarce forbear to cheer. 

Establishing the Tone 63 

But fiercely ran the current, 

Swollen high by months of rain, 
And fast his blood was flowing, 

And he was sore in pain, 
And heavy with his armor. 

And spent with changing blows ; 
And oft they thought him sinking, 

But still again he rose. 

And now he feels the bottom ; — 

Now on dry earth he stands ; 
Now roimd him throng the Fathers 

To press his gory hands. 
And now, with shouts and clapping, 

And noise of weeping loud, 
He enters through the River Gate, 

Borne by the joyous crowd. 


From " Julius Caesar " 

By Wn,LiAM Shakespeare 

Flavins. Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ? 

Second Citizen. Indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see 
Caesar, and to rejoice in his triumph. 

Marullus. Wherefore rejoice ? What conquest brings he 
What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels ? 
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things ! 
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, 
Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 

64 Public Speaking 

Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The hve-long day, with patient expectation 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome ; 
And when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made an universal shout, 
That Tiber trembled underneath her banks. 
To hear the replication of your soimds. 
Made in her concave shores ? 
And do you now put on your best attire ? 
And do you now cull out a holiday ? 
And do you now strew flowers in his way 
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? 
Be gone ! 

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees ? 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must Hght on this ingratitude. 


From "Collected Verse,'' with the permission of A. P. Watt and Son, 
London, and Doubleday, Page and Company, New York, publishers 

By Rudyaed Kipling 

God of our fathers, known of old — 

Lord of our far-flung battle-line — 
Beneath whose awful hand we hold 

Dominion over palm and pine — 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget. 

The tumult and the shouting dies — 
The captains and the kings depart — 

Establishing the Tone 65 

Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, 
An humble and a contrite heart. 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget. 

Far-called our navies melt away — 

On dune and headland sinks the fire, 
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday 

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre. 
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget. 

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose 
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe — 

Such boasting as the Gentiles use 
Or lesser breeds without the Law — 

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet. 

Lest we forget — ■ lest we forget. 

For heathen heart that puts her trust 

In reeking tube and iron shard — 
All valiant dust that builds on dust. 

And guarding calls not Thee to guard — 
For frantic boast and foolish word, 
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord. 

66 Public Speaking 


From Webster's Reply to Hayne, in the United States Senate. Little, 
Brown and Company, Boston, publishers of "The Great Speeches and 
Orations of Daniel Webster " 

By Daniel Webster 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massa- 
chusetts ; she needs none. There she is. Behold her, and 
judge for yourselves. There is her history; the world 
knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is 
Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; 
and there they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, 
fallen in the great struggle for independence, now lie 
mingled with the soil of every State from New England to 
Georgia ; and there they will Ke forever. And, sir, where 
American hberty raised its first voice, and where its youth 
was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives in the strength 
of its manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and 
disunion shall wound it ; if party strife and blind ambition 
shall hawk at and tear it ; if folly and madness, if uneasiness 
under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed in 
separating it from that Union by which alone its existence 
is made sure, — it will stand, in the end, by the side of 
that cradle in which its infancy was rocked ; it will stretch 
forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain over 
the friends who gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if 
fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own 
glory, and on the very spot of its origin. 

Establishing the Tone 67 


Delivered in the House of Lords, February 13, 1788 

By Edmund Bukke 

My Lords, I do not mean to go further than just to re- 
mind your Lordships of this, — that Mr. Hastings's gov- 
ernment was one whole system of oppression, of robbery of 
individuals, of spoliation of the public, and of suppression 
of the whole system of the English government, in order 
to vest in the worst of the natives all the power that could 
possibly exist in any government; in order to defeat 
the ends which all governments ought, in common, to 
have in view. In the name of the Commons of England, 
I charge all this villainy upon Warren Hastings, in this last 
moment of my application to you. 

Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Com- 
mons of Great Britain, I impeach Warren Hastings of high 
crimes and misdemeanors. 

I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great 
Britain in Parliament assembled, whose parliamentary 
trust he has abused. 

I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great 
Britain, whose national character he has dishonored. 

I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose 
laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted. 

I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose 
property he has destroyed, whose coimtry he has laid waste 
and desolate. 

I impeach him in the name of human nature itself, which 
he has cruelly outraged, injured, and oppressed, in both 
sexes. And I impeach him in the name and by the virtue 

68 Public Speaking 

of those eternal laws of justice, which ought equally to 
pervade every age, condition, rank, and situation, in the 


From the oration at the laying of the corner stone of the monument, 
June 17, 1825. Little, Brown and Company, Boston, publishers of " The 
Great Speeches and Orations of Daniel Webster " 

By Daniel Webster 

This uncounted multitude before me and aroimd me 
proves the feeling which the occasion has excited. These 
thousands of human faces, glowing with sympathy and joy, 
and from the impulses of a common gratitude turned rever- 
ently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament, 
proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our 
assembling have made a deep impression on our hearts. 

If, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to 
affect the mind of man, we need not strive to repress the 
emotions which agitate us here. We are among the sepul- 
chers of our fathers. We are on ground distinguished by 
their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood. 
We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor 
to draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our 
humble purpose had never been conceived, if we ourselves 
had never been bom, the 17th of June, 1775, would have 
been a day on which all subsequent history would have 
poured its light, and the eminence where we stand a point 
of attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we 
are Americans. We live in what may be called the early 
age of this great continent ; and we know that our posterity, 
through all time, are here to enjoy and suffer the allotments 

Establishing the Tone 69 

of humanity. We see before us a probable train of great 
events ; we know that our own fortunes have been happily 
cast ; and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved 
by the contemplation of occurrences which have guided 
our destiny before many of us were born, and settled the 
condition in which we should pass that portion of our exist- 
ence which God allows to man on earth. 


In dedication of the National Cemetery at Gettysburg, Pa., Nov. 19, 1863 
By Abraham Lincoln 

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth 
on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and 
dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. 

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether 
that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, 
can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that 
war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as 
a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that 
that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper 
that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot 
consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave 
men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated 
it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world 
will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it 
can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the liv- 
ing, rather, to be dedicated here to the imfinished work 
which they who fought here have thus far so nobly ad- 
vanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great 
task remaining before us — that from these honored dead 

70 Public Speaking 

we take increased devotion to that cause for which they 
gave the last full measure of devotion ; that we here highly 
resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain; that 
this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom ; 
and that government of the people, by the people, for the 
people, shall not perish from the earth. 



From " The Courtship of Miles Standish," by permission of, and by special 
arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers 
of this author's works 

By Henry W. Longfellow 

"A wonderful man was this Caesar ! 
You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here is a fellow 
Who could both write and fight, and in both was equally 

Straightway answered and spake John Alden, the comely, 

the youthful : 
"Yes, he was equally skilled, as you say, with his pen and 

his weapons. 
■ Somewhere have I read, but where I forget, he could dictate 
Seven letters at once, at the same time writing his memoirs." 
"Truly," continued the Captain, not heeding or hearing 

the other, 
"Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius Cassar ! 
Better be first, he said, in a little Iberian village. 
Than be second in Rome, and I think he was right when he 

said it. 
Twice was he married before he was twenty, and many 

times after ; 
Battles five himdred he fought, and a thousand cities he 

conquered ; 
He, too, fought in Flanders, as he himself has recorded ; 
Finally he was stabbed by his friend, the orator Brutus ! 


72 Public Speaking 

Now, do you know what he did on a certain occasion in 

When the rear-guard of his army retreated, the front giving 

way too, 
And the immortal Twelfth Legion was crowded so closely 

There was no room for their swords? Why, he seized a 

shield from a soldier. 
Put himself straight at the head of his troops, and com- 
manded the captains, 
Calling on each by his name, to order forward the ensigns ; 
Then to widen the ranks, and give more room for their 

weapons ; 
So he won the day, the battle of something-or-other. 
That's what I always say ; if you wish a thing to be well 

You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others ! " 

By Theodore Roosevelt 

I want to talk to you of the attitude that should prop- 
erly be observed by legislators, by executive officers, to- 
ward wealth, and the attitude that should be observed in 
return by men of means, and especially by corporations, 
toward the body politic and toward their fellow citizens. 

I utterly distrust the man of whom it is continually said : 
"Oh, he's a good fellow, but, of course, in politics, he plays 
politics." It is about as bad for a man to profess, and for 
those that Ksten to him by their plaudits to insist upon his 
professing something which they know he cannot live up to, 
as it is for him to go below what he ought to do, because if 

Vocal Flexibility 73 

he gets into the habit of lying to himself and to his audience 
as to what he intends to do, it is certain to eat away his 
moral fiber. 

He won't be able then to stand up to what he knows ought 
to be done. The temptation of the average politician is to 
promise everything to the reformers and then to do every- 
thing for the organization. I think I can say that, what- 
ever I have promised on the stump or off the stump, either 
expressly or impHedly, to either organization or reformers, 
I have kept my promise ; and I should keep it just as much 
if the reformers disapproved. 

A public man is bound to represent his constituents, but 
he is no less boimd to cease to represent them when, on a 
great moral question, he feels that they are taking the wrong 
side. Let him go out of politics rather than stay in at the 
cost of doing what his own conscience forbids him to do. 


From " Self-Cultivation in English," with the permission of the author, and 
of Thomas Y. Crowell Company, New York, publishers 

By George Herbert Palmer 

First, then, " Look well to your speech." It is commonly 
supposed that when a man seeks literary power he goes to 
his room and plans an article for the press. But this is to 
begin literary culture at the wrong end. We speak a hun- 
dred times for every once we write. The busiest writer 
produces Uttle more than a volume a year, not so much as 
his talk would amount to in a week. Consequently through 
speech it is usually decided whether a man is to have com- 
mand of his language or not. If he is slovenly in his ninety- 
nine cases of talking, he can seldom pull himself up to 

74 Public Speaking 

strength and exactitude in the hundredth case of writing. 
A person is made in one piece, and the same being runs 
through a multitude of performances. Whether words are 
uttered on paper or to the air, the effect on the utterer is the 
same. Vigor or feebleness results according as energy or 
slackness has been in command. I know that certain 
adaptations to a new field are often necessary. A good 
speaker may find awkwardnesses in himseK when he comes 
to write, a good writer when he speaks. And certainly 
cases occur where a man exhibits distinct strength in one 
of the two, speaking or writing, and not in the other. But 
such cases are rare. As a rule, language once within our 
control can be employed for oral or for written purposes. 
And since the opportunities for oral practice enormously 
outbalance those for written, it is the oral which are chiefly 
significant in the development of literary power. We 
rightly say of the accompUshed writer that he shows a mas- 
tery of his own tongue. 

Fortunate it is, . then, that self-cultivation in the use of 
English must chiefly come through speech ; because we are 
always speaking, whatever else we do. In opportimities 
for acquiring a mastery of language, the poorest and busiest 
are at no large disadvantage as compared with the leisured 
rich. It is true the strong impulse which comes from the 
suggestion and approval of society may in some cases be 
absent; but this can be compensated by the sturdy purpose 
of the learner. A recognition of the beauty of well-ordered 
words, a strong desire, patience tmder discouragements, 
and promptness in counting every occasion as of conse- 
quence, — these are the simple agencies which sweep one 
on to power. Watch your speech, then. 

Vocal Flexibility , 75 


From " Hamlet " 

By William Shakespeare 

Hamlet. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced 
it to you, trippingly on the tongue ; but if you mouth it 
as many of your players do, I had as lief the town-crier 
spoke my Unes. Nor do not saw the air too much with 
your hand, thus, but use all gently ; for in the very torrent, 
tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you 
must acquire and beget a temperance that may give it 
smoothness. O, it offends me to the soul to hear a robus- 
tious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very 
rags, to spUt the ears of the groimdlings, who for the most 
part are capable of nothing but inexphcable dumb-shows 
and noise. I could have such a fellow whipped for o'erdo- 
ing Termagant ; it out-herods Herod : pray you, avoid it. 

I Player. I warrant your honor. 

Hamlet. Be not too tame neither, but let your own dis- 
cretion be your tutor : suit the action to the word, the word 
to the action ; with this special observance, that you o'er- 
step not the modesty of nature ; for any thing so overdone 
is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first 
and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to 
nature; to show virtue her own feature, sco'rn her own 
image, and the very age and body of the time his form and 
pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though 
it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious 
grieve ; the censure of the which one must in your allow- 
ance o'erweigh a whole theater of others. O, there be 
players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, 
and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither 

76 Public Speaking 

having the accent of Christians nor the gait of Christian, 
pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I 
have thought some of nature's journeymen had made 
men and not made them well, they imitated humanity so 


From " The Merchant of Venice " 
By Wn-LiAM Shakespeare 

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
A yoimg and learned doctor to our court. 
Where is he ? 

Nerissa. He attendeth here hard by. 
To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. 

Duke. With all my heart. Some three or four of you 
Go give him courteous conduct to this place. 
Meantime the court shall hear Bellario's letter. 

Clerk (reads). "Your grace shall understand that at the 
receipt of your letter I am very sick; but in the instant 
that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me 
a young doctor of Rome; his name is Balthasar. I ac- 
quainted him with the cause in controversy between the 
Jew and Antonio the merchant : we turned o'er many books 
together : he is furnished with my opinion ; which, bettered 
with his own learning, the greatness whereof I cannot enough 
commend, comes with him, at my importuruty, to fill up 
your grace's request in my stead. I beseech you, let his 
lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend 
estimation ; for I never knew so young a body with so old 
a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose 
trial shall better publish his commendation." 

Vocal Flexibility 77 


From " Julius Caesar" 

By William Shakespeare 

Casca. You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak 
with me ? 

Brutus. Ay, Casca ; tell us what hath chanc'd to-day, 
That Caesar looks so sad. 

Casca. Why, you were with him, were you not ? 

Brutus. I should not, then, ask Casca what had chanc'd. 

Casca. Why, there was a crown offered him ; and being 
offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, thus ; 
and then the people fell a-shouting. 

Brutus. What was the second noise for ? 

Casca. Why, for that too. 

Cassius. They shouted thrice: what was the last cry 

Casca. Why, for that too. 

Brutus. Was the crown offered him thrice ? 

Casca. Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every 
time gentler than other; and at every putting-by mine 
honest neighbors shouted. 

Cassius. Who offered him the crown ? 

Casca. Why, Antony. 

Brutus. Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. 

Casca. I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it : 
it was mere foolery ; I did not mark it. I saw Mark An- 
tony offer him a crown ; — yet 'twas not a crown neither, 
'twas one of these coronets ; — and, as I told you, he put it 
by once : but, for all that, to my thinking, he would fain 
have had it. Then he offered it to him again ; then he put 
it by again : but, to my thinking, he was very loth to lay 

78 Public Speaking 

his fingers off it. And then he offered it the third time ; he 
put it the third time by : and still as he refused it, the rabble- 
ment shouted, and clapped their chopped hands, and threw 
up their sweaty nightcaps, and uttered such a deal of stink- 
ing breath because Caesar refused the crown, that it had 
almost choked Caesar; for he swooned, and fell down at 
it : and for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of 
opening my lips, and receiving the bad air. 


From " Lectures on Oratory " 
By Henry Ward Beecher 

How much squandering there is of the voice ! How little 
there is of the advantage that may come from conversa- 
tional tones ! How seldom does a man dare to acquit him- 
self with pathos and fervor ! And the men are themselves 
mechanical and methodical in the bad way who are most 
afraid of the artificial training that is given in the schools, 
and who so often show by the fruit of their labor that the 
want of oratory is the want of education. 

How remarkable is the sweetness of voice in the mother, 
in the father, in the household ! The music of no chorded 
instruments brought together is, for sweetness, like the 
music of familiar affection when spoken by brother and sis- 
ter, or by father and mother. 

Conversation itself belongs to oratory. How many men 
there are who are weighty in argument, who have abxmdant 
resources, and who are almost boundless in their power at 
other times and in other places, but who, when in company 
among their kind, are exceedingly unapt in their methods. 
Having none of the secret instruments by which the ele- 

Vocal Flexibility 79 

ments of nature may be touched, having no skill and no 
power in this direction, they stand as machines before liv- 
ing, sensitive men. A man may be a master before an in- 
strument; only the instrument is dead; and he has the 
living hand ; and out of that dead instrument what won- 
drous harmony springs forth at his touch ! And if you 
can electrify an audience by the power of a Uving man on 
dead things, how much more should that audience be elec- 
trified when the chords are hving and the man is alive, and 
he knows how to touch them with divine inspiration ! 


From "Personal Power," by pennission of, and by special arrangement with, 
Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of this author's works 

By William J. Tucker 

In this talk about the part which the college may take 
in the training of a gentleman, I have not dwelt, as you 
have noticed, upon forms or conventionalities. Every 
gentleman respects form. Respect for form can be taught, 
or at least inculcated, but not form itself. One comes to be 
at ease in society by going into society. Manners come by 
observation. We imitate, we follow the better fashion of 
society, the better behavior of men. Good breeding con- 
sists first in the attention of others in our behalf to certain 
necessary details, then in our attention to them. We come 
in time to draw close and nice distinctions. This little 
thing is right, that is not quite right. So we grow into the 
formal habits of a gentleman. "Good manners are made 
up of constant and petty sacrifices," says Emerson. It is 
well to keep this saying in mind as a qualification of another 
of his more familiar sayings : "Give me a thought, and my 

80 Public Speaking 

hands and legs and voice and face will all go right. It is 
only when mind and character slumber that the dress can 
be seen." 

I like to see the well-bred man, to whom the details of 
social Mfe have become a second nature. I like also to see 
the play of that first healthy instinct in a true man which 
scorns a mean act, which will not allow him to take part in 
the making of a mean custom, which for example, if he be a 
college fellow, will not suffer him to treat another fellow 
as a fag. I am entirely sure that that man is a gentleman. 

So then it is, in this world of books, of companionship, 
of sport, of struggle with some of us, of temptation also, 
and yet more of high incentives, we are all set to the task of 
coming out, and of helping one another to come out, as 
gentlemen. Do not miss, I beseech you, the greatness of 
the task. Do not miss its constancy. It is more than the 
incidental work of a college to train the efl&cient, the honor- 
able, the unselfish man. A college-bred man must be able 
to show at all times and on all occasions the quality of his 



From "Julius Caesar" 

By William Shakespeare 

Be patient till the last. 
Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause, 
and be silent, that you may hear : believe me for mine 
honor, and have respect to mine honor, that you may be- 
lieve : censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses, 
that you may the better judge. If there be any in this 
assembly, any dear friend of Caesar's, to him I say, that 
Brutus' love to Caesar was no less than his. If, then, that 
friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, this is my 
answer, — Not that I loved Cassar less, but that I loved 
Rome more. Had you rather Caesar were living, and die all 
slaves, than that Cassar were dead, to live all free men ? 
As Caesar loved me, I weep for him ; as he was fortunate 
I rejoice at it ; as he was vahant, I honor him : but, as he 
was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love ; joy 
for his fortune ; honor for his valor ; and death for his 
ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman ? 
If any, speak; for him have I offended. Who is here so 
rude that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak ; for him 
have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his 
country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I have 
done no more to Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The 

G 8l 

82 Public Speaking 

question of his death is enrolled in the Capitol ; his glory 
not extenuated, wherein he was worthy; nor his offenses 
enforced, for which he suffered death. Here comes his 
body, mourned by Mark Antony : who, though he had no 
hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, a 
place in the commonwealth; as which of you shall not? 
With this I depart, — that, as I slew my best lover for the 
good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it 
shall please my country to need my death. 


From " Hamlet " 
By William Shakespeare 

Yet here, Laertes ! aboard, aboard, for shame ! 
The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, 
And you are stay'd for. There ; my blessing with thee ! 
And these few precepts in thy memory 
See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, 
Nor any unproportion'd thought his act. 
Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. 
Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel ; 
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment 
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg'd comrade. Beware 
Of entrance to a quarrel, but, being in, 
Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. 
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice ; 
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. 
Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, 
But not express'd in fancy ; rich, not gaudy ; 
For the apparel oft proclaims the man, 

Making the Point 83 

And they in France of the best rank and station 
Are most select and generous, chief in that. 
Neither a borrower nor a lender be ; 
For loan oft loses both itself and friend, 
And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. 
This above all : to thine own self be true, 
And it must follow, as the night the day, 
Thou canst not then be false to any man. 
Farewell ; my blessing season this in thee ! 


From the Lord Rector's address, University of Edinburgh, 1882 

By Lord Rosebery 

Let us win in the competition of international well-being 
and prosperity. Let us have a finer, better educated, bet- 
ter lodged, and better nourished race than exists elsewhere ; 
better schools, better universities, better tribunals, ay, and 
better churches. In one phrase, let our standard be higher 
not in the jargon of the Education Department, but in the 
acknowledgment of mankind. The standard of mankind 
is not so exalted but that a nobler can be imagined and 
attained. The dream of him who loved Scotland best wotild 
lie not so much in the direction of antiquarian revival, as 
in the hope that his country might be pointed out as one 
that in spite of rocks, and rigor, and poverty, could yet 
teach the world by precept and example, could lead the 
van and point the moral, where greater nations and fairer 
states had failed. Those who believe the Scots to be so 
eminently vain a race, will say that already we are in our 
opinion the tenth legion of civilization. Well, vanity is a 
centipede with corns on every foot : I will not tread where 

84 Public Speaking 

the ground is most dangerous. But if we are not foremost, 
we may at any rate become so. Our fathers have declared 
unto us what was done in their days and in the old time 
before them : we know that we come of a strenuous stock- 
Do you remember the words that young Carlyle wrote to 
his brother nine years after he had left this University as a 
student, forty-three years before he returned as its Rec- 

"I say, Jack, thou and I must never falter. Work, my 
boy, work unweariedly. I swear that all the thousand mis- 
eries of this hard fight, and ill-health, the most terrific of 
them all, shall never chain us down. By the river Styx 
it shall not ! Two fellows from a nameless spot in An- 
nandale shall yet show the world the pluck that is in 

Let that be your spirit to-day. You are citizens of no 
mean city, members of no common state, heirs of no supine 
empire. You will many of you exercise influence over your 
fellow men: some will study and interpret our laws, and 
so become a power; others will again be in a position to 
solace and exalt, as destined to be doctors and clergymen, 
and so the physical and spiritual comforters of mankind. 
Make the best of these opportunities. Raise your country, 
raise your University, raise yourselves. 


Delivered in the House of Commons, March, 1775 

By Edmund Burke 

Reflect, sirs, that when you have fixed a quota of taxation 
for every colony, you have not provided for prompt and 
pimctual payment. You must make new Boston Port 

Making the Point 85 

Bills, new restraining laws, new acts for dragging men to 
England for trial. You must send out new fleets, new 
armies. All is to begin again. From this day forward 
the empire is never to know an hour's tranquillity. An 
intestine fire will be kept alive in the bowels of the 
colonies, which one time or other must consume this whole 

Instead of a standing revenue, you will therefore have a 
perpetual quarrel. Indeed, the noble lord who proposed 
this project seems himself to be of that opinion. His pro- 
ject was rather designed for breaking the union of the colo- 
nies than for estabhshing a revenue. But whatever his 
views may be, as I propose the peace and vadon of the colo- 
nies as the very foimdation of my plan, it cannot accord 
with one whose foundation is perpetual discord. 

Compare the two. This I offer to give you is plain and 
simple; the other full of perplexed and intricate mazes. 
This is mild ; that harsh. This is foxmd by experience ef- 
fectual for its purposes ; the other is a new project. This 
is imiversal; the other calculated for certain colonies only. 
This is immediate in its conciliatory operation ; the other 
remote, contingent, full of hazard. Mine is what becomes 
the dignity of a ruling people — gratuitous, unconditional, 
and not held out as a matter of bargain and sale. I have 
done my duty in proposing it to you. I have indeed tried 
you by a long discourse ; but this is the misfortune of those 
to whose influence nothing will be conceded, and who must 
win every inch of their groimd by argument. You have 
heard me with goodness. May you decide with wisdom ! 

86 Public Speaking 


From a speech in the Semite, igoo 

By John C. Spooner 

Some one asked the other day why the President did not 
bring about a cessation of hostilities. Upon what basis 
could he have brought about a cessation of hostilities? 
Should he have asked Aguinaldo for an armistice ? If $o, 
upon what basis should he have requested it ? What should 
he say to him? "Please stop this fighting"? "What 
for," Aguinaldo would say; "do you propose to retire?" 
"No." "Do you propose to grant us independence?" 
"No, not now." "Well, why, then, an armistice?" The 
President would doubtless be expected to reply: "Some 
distinguished gentlemen in the United States, members of 
the United States Senate, and others, have discovered a 
doubt about our right to be here at all, some question 
whether we have acquired the PhiUppines, some question 
as to whether we have correctly read the Declaration of 
Independence ; and I want an armistice tmtil we can con- 
sult and determine finally whether we have acquired the 
Philippines or not, whether we are violating the Declaration 
of Independence or not, whether we are trampling upon 
the Constitution or not." That is practically the pro- 

No, Mr. President, men may say in criticism of the Presi- 
dent what they choose. He has been grossly insulted in 
this chamber, and it appears upon the record. He has gone 
his way patiently, exercising the utmost forbearance, all his 
acts characterized by a desire to do precisely what the Con- 
gress had placed upon him by its ratification of the treaty 
and its increase of the army. He has done it in a way to 

Making the Point 87 

impress upon the Filipinos, so far as language and action 
could do it, his desire, and the desire of our people, to 
do them good, to give them the largest possible measure 
of liberty. 


From an address in the House of Commons, March, 1865 

By John Bright 

Why should we fear a great nation on the American Con- 
tinent ? Some people fear that, should America become a 
great nation, she will be arrogant and aggressive. But that 
does not follow. The character of a nation does not de- 
pend altogether upon its size, but upon the intelligence, in- 
struction, and morals of its people. You fancy the suprem- 
acy of the sea will pass away from you ; and the noble lord, 
who has had much experience, and is supposed to be wiser 
on the subject than any other man in the House, will say 
that "Rule Britannia," that noble old song, may become 
obsolete. Well, inasmuch as the supremacy of the seas 
means arrogance and the assumption of dictatorial power 
on the part of this country, the sooner that becomes obsolete 
the better. I do not believe that it is for the advantage of 
this coxmtry, or of any country in the world, that any one 
nation should pride itself upon what is termed the suprem- 
acy of the sea ; and I hope the time is coming — I believe 
the hour is hastening — when we shall find that law and 
justice will guide the coimcils and will direct the policy of 
the Christian nations of the world. Nature will not be 
baffled because we are jealous of the United States — the 
decrees of Providence will not be overthrown by aught we 
can do. 

88 Public Speaking 

The population of the United States is now not less than 
35,000,000. When the next Parhament of England has 
lived to the age which this has hved to, that popxilation 
will be 40,000,000, and you may calculate the increase at 
the rate of rather more than 1,000,000 of persons per year. 
Who is to gainsay it? Will constant snarling at a great 
republic alter this state of things, or sweU us up in these 
islands to 40,000,000 or 50,000,000, or bring them down to 
our 30,000,000? Honorable members and the country at 
large should consider these facts, and learn from them that 
it is the interest of the nations to be at one — and for us to 
be in perfect courtesy and amity with the great English 
nation on the other side of the Atlantic. 



From " King Robert of Sicily," by permission of, and by special arrange- 
ment with, Houghton MifBin Company, authorized publishers of this 
author's works 

By Henky W. Longfellow 

Days came and went; and now returned again 

To Sicily the old Saturnian reign ; 

Under the Angel's governance benign 

The happy island danced with corn and wine. 

Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, 
Sullen and silent and disconsolate. 
Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, 
With look bewildered and a vacant stare, 
Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, 
By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn. 
His only friend the ape, his only food 
What others left, — he stiU was unsubdued. 
And when the Angel met him on his way, 
And half in earnest, half in jest, would say. 
Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel 
The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, 
"Art thou the King ?" the passion of his woe 
Burst from him in resistless overflow. 
And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling 
The haughty answer back, "I am, I am the King !" 
Almost three years were ended ; when there came 


90 Public Speaking 

Ambassadors of great repute and name 

From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 

Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane 

By letter summoned them forthwith to come 

On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. 

And lo ! among the menials, in mock state, 

Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait. 

His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind. 

The solemn ape demurely perched behind, 

King Robert rode, making huge merriment 

In aU the country towns through which they went. 

The Pope received them with great pomp and blare 

Of barmered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, 

Giving his benediction and embrace 

Fervent and fuU of apostolic grace. 

While with congratulations and with prayers 

He entertained the Angel unawares, 

Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, 

Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud: 

"I am the King ! Look, and behold in me 

Robert, your brother. King of Sicily ! 

This man who wears my semblance to your eyes, 

Is an imposter in a king's disgviise. 

Do you not know me ? does no voice within 

Answer my cry, and say we are akin ?" 

The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, 

Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene ; 

The Emperor, laughing, said, "It is strange sport 

To keep a madman for thy Fool at court !" 

And the poor, bafBed Jester in disgrace 

Was hustled back among the populace. 

Values and Transitions 91 


An extract from " Masters of the Situation," a lecture 
By James T. Fields 

When I talk across an ocean of 3000 miles, with my 
friends on the other side of it, and feel that I may know 
any hour of the day if all goes well with them, I think 
with gratitude of the immense energy and perseverance 
of that one man, Cyrus W. Field, who spent so many 
years of his life in perfecting a communication second 
only in importance to the discovery of this country. 
Think what that enthusiast accomplished by his untir- 
ing energy. He made fifty voyages across the Atlantic. 
Eight years more he encountered the odium of failure, 
but still kept plowing across the Atlantic, flying from city 
to city, soliciting capital, holding meetings and forcing 
down this most colossal discouragement. At last day 
dawned again, and another cable was paid out — this time 
from the deck of the "Great Eastern." Twelve hundred 
miles of it were laid down, and the ship was just Hfting her 
head to a stiff breeze then springing up, when, without a 
moment's warning, the cable suddenly snapped short off, 
and plunged into the sea. Nine days and nights they 
dragged the bottom of the sea for this lost treasure, and 
though they grappled it three times, they could not bring 
it to the surface. In five months another cable was shipped 
on board the " Great Eastern," and this time, by the blessing 
of heaven, the wires were stretched unharmed from con- 
tinent to continent. Then came that never-to-be-forgotten 
search, in four ships, for the lost cable. In the bow of one 
of these vessels stood Cyrus Field, day and night, in storm 
and fog, squall and calm, intensely watching the quiver of 

92 Public Speaking 

the grapnel that was dragging two miles down on the bot- 
tom of the deep. 

At length on the last night of August, a little before mid- 
night, the spirit of this great man was rewarded. I shall 
here quote his own words, as none others could possibly 
convey so well the thrilling interest of that hour. He says : 
"All felt as if Hfe and death hung on the issue. It was only 
when the cable was brought over the bow and onto the deck 
that men dared to breathe. Even then they hardly be- 
lieved their eyes. Some crept toward it to feel of it to be 
sure it was there. Then we carried it along to the electri- 
cians' room, to see if our long-sought treasure was dead or 
alive. A few minutes of suspense and a flash told of the 
lightning current again set free. Then the feehng long 
pent up burst forth. Some turned away their heads and 
wept. Others broke into cheers, and the cry ran from maii 
to man, and was heard down in the engine rooms, deck be- 
low deck, and from the boats on the water, and the other 
ships, while the rockets lighted up the darkness of the sea. 
Then, with thankful hearts, we turned our faces again to 
the West. But soon the wind rose, and for thirty-six hours 
we were exposed to all the dangers of a storm on the Atlan- 
tic. Yet, in the very height and fury of the gale, as I sat 
in the electricians' room, a flash of Hght came up from the 
deep, which, having crossed to Ireland, came back to me in 
mid-ocean, telling me that those so dear to me, whom I had 
left on the banks of the Hudson, were well, and following 
us with their wishes and their prayers. This was like a 
whisper of God from the sea, bidding me keep heart and 

And now, after all those thirteen years of almost super- 

Values and Transitions 93 

human struggle and that one moment of almost superhu- 
man victory, I think we may safely include Cyrus Field 
among the masters of the situation. 


From " Speeches and Lectures," with the permission of Lothrop, Lee and 
Shepard, Boston, publishers^ 

By Wendell Phh-lips 

Broadly considered, O'Connell's eloquence has never 
been equaled in modem times, certainly not in English 
speech. Do you think I am partial? I will vouch John 
Randolph of Roanoke, the Virginia slaveholder, who hated 
an Irishman almost as much as he hated a Yankee, himself 
an orator of no mean level. Hearing O'Connell, he ex- 
claimed, "This is the man, these are the hps, the most elo- 
quent that speak the English tongue in my day !" I think 
he was right. I remember the solemnity of Webster, the 
grace of Everett, the rhetoric of Choate ; I know the elo- 
quence that lay hid in the iron logic of Calhoun ; I have 
melted beneath the magnetism of Sergeant S. Prentiss of 
Mississippi, who wielded a power few men ever had; it 
has been my fortune to sit at the feet of the great speakers 
of the English tongue on the other side of the ocean ; but 
I think all of them together never surpassed, and no one of 
them ever equaled O'Connell. 

Nature intended him for our Demosthenes. Never, 
since the great Greek, has she sent forth one so lavishly 
gifted for his work as a tribune of the people. In the first 
place, he had a magnificent presence, impressive in bearing, 
massive, like that of Jupiter. Webster himself hardly out- 
did him in the majesty of his proportions. To be sure, he 

94 Public Speaking 

had not Webster's craggy face, and precipice of brow, nor 
his eyes glowing like anthracite coal. Nor had he the lion 
roar of Mirabeau. But his presence filled the eye. A small 
O'Connell would hardly have been an O'Connell at all. 
These physical advantages are half the battle. 

I remember Russell Lowell telling us that Mr. Webster 
came home from Washington at the time the Whig party 
thought of dissolution, a year or two before his death, and 
went down to Faneuil Hall to protest ; drawing himself up 
to his loftiest proportion, his brow clothed with thunder, 
before the Ustening thousands, he said, "WeU, gentlemen, 
I am a Whig, a Massachusetts Whig, a Faneuil-Hall Whig, 
a revolutionary Whig, a constitutional Whig. If you break 
the Whig party, sir, where am I to go ?" And says Lowell, 
"We held our breath, thinking where he could go. If he 
had been five feet three, we should have said, 'Who cares 
where you go?'" So it was with O'Connell. There was 
something majestic in his presence before he spoke; and 
he added to it what Webster had not, what Clay might have 
lent — infinite grace, that magnetism that melts all hearts 
into one. I saw him at over sixty-six years of age ; every 
attitude was beauty, every gesture grace. You could only 
think of a greyhound as you looked at him ; it would have 
been dehghtful to watch him, if he had not spoken a word. 
Then he had a voice that covered the gamut. The majesty 
of his indignation, fitly uttered in tones of superhuman 
power, made him able to "indict" a nation. Carlyle says, 
" He is God's own anointed king whose single word melts 
all wills into his." This describes O'Connell. Emerson 
says, "There is no true eloquence unless there is a man 
behind the speech." Daniel O'Connell was Kstened to be- 

Values and Transitions 95 

cause all England and all Ireland knew that there was a 
man behind the speech. 

I heard him once say, "I send my voice across the Atlan- 
tic, careering like the thunderstorm against the breeze, to 
remind the bondman that the dawn of his redemption is 
already breaking." You seemed to hear the tones come 
echoing back to London from the Rocky Mountains. 
Then, with the slightest possible Irish brogue, he would 
tell a story, while all Exeter Hall shook with laughter. 
The next moment, tears in his voice like a Scotch song, five 
thousand men wept. And all the while no effort. He 
seemed only breathing. 

"As effortless as woodland nooks 
Send violets up, and paint them blue." 


Against Warren Hastings, House of Lords, February, 1788 

By Edmund Burke 

In the name of the Commons of England, I charge all 
this villainy upon Warren Hastings, in this last moment of 
•my application to you. 

My Lord, what is it that we want here to a great act of 
national justice ? Do we want a cause, my Lords ? You 
have the cause of oppressed princes, of undone women of the 
first rank, of desolated provinces, and of wasted kingdoms. 

Do you want a criminal, my Lords? When was there 
so much iniquity ever laid to the charge of any one ? No, 
my Lords, you must not. look to punish any other such de- 
linquent from India. Warren Hastings has not left sub- 
stance enough in India to nourish such another delinquent. 

My Lords, is it a prosecutor you want ? You have be- 

96 Public Speaking 

fore you the Commons of Great Britain as prosecutors; 
and I believe, my Lords, that the sun, in his beneficent 
progress roimd the world, does not behold a more glorious 
sight than that of men, separated from a remote people by 
the material boimds and barriers of nature, united by the 
bonds of a social and moral community — all the Commons 
of England resenting, as their own, the indignities and cruel- 
ties that are offered to aU the people of India. 

Do we want a tribunal ? My Lords, no example of an- 
tiquity, nothing in the modem world, nothing in the range 
of human imagination, can supply us with a tribunal like 
this. My Lords, here we see virtually, in the mind's eye, 
that sacred majesty of the Crown, under whose authority 
you sit and whose power you exercise. 

We have here all the branches of the royal family, in a 
situation between majesty and subjection, between the 
sovereign and the subject — offering a pledge, in that situa- 
tion, for the support of the rights of the Crown and the 
liberties of the people, both of which extremities they touch. 


From " The Orations and Addresses of George William Curtis," Vol. III. 
Copyright, 1894, by Harper and Brothers 

By George William Curtis 

It was not until Lovejoy feU, while defending his press 
at Alton, in November, 1837, that an American citizen was 
killed by a raging mob for declaring, in a free State, the 
right of innocent men and women to their personal liberty. 
This tragedy, Kke the deadly blow at Charles Sumner in 
the Senate Chamber, twenty years afterward, awed the whole 
country with a sense of vast and momentous peril. Never 

Values and Transitions 97 

since the people of Boston thronged Faneuil Hall on the day 
after the massacre in State Street, had that ancient hall seen 
a more solemn and significant assembly. It was the more 
solemn, the more significant, because the excited multi- 
tude was no longer, as in the Revolutionary day, inspired 
by one unanimous and overwhelming purpose to assert 
and maintain Uberty of speech as the bulwark of all other 
Uberty. It was an unwonted and foreboding scene. An 
evil spirit was in the air. 

When the seemly protest against the monstrous crime had 
been spoken, and the proper duty of the day was done, a 
voice was heard, — the voice of the high officer solemnly 
sworn to prosecute, in the name of Massachusetts, every 
violation of law, declaring, in Faneuil Hall, sixty years after 
the battle of Bimker Hill, and amid a howhng storm of 
applause, that an American citizen who was put to death 
by a mad crowd of his fellow citizens for defending his 
right of free speech, died as the fool dieth. Boston has seen 
dark days, but never a moment so dark as that. Seven 
years before, Webster had said, in the famous words that 
Massachusetts binds as frontlets between her eyes, "There 
are Boston and Concord, and Lexington and Bunker Hill, 
and there they wiU remain forever." Had they already 
vanished ? Was the spirit of the Revolution quite extinct ? 
In the very Cradle of Liberty did no son survive to awake 
its slumbering echoes? By the grace of God such a son 
there was. He had come with the multitude, and he had 
heard with sympathy and approval the speeches that con- 
demned the wrong ; but when the cruel voice justified the 
murderers of Lovejoy, the heart of the young man biurned 
within him. This speech, he said to himself, must be 

98 Public Speaking 

answered. As the malign strain proceeded, the Boston 
boy, all on fire, with Concord and Lexington tugging at his 
heart, unconsciously murmured, "Such a speech in Faneuil 
Hall must be answered in Faneuil Hall." "Why not 
answer it yourself?" whispered a neighbor, who overheard 
him. "Help me to the platform and I wiQ," — and push- 
ing and struggling through the dense and threatening crowd, 
the young man reached the platform, was lifted upon it, and, 
advancing to speak, was greeted with a roar of hostile 
cries. But riding the whirlwind imdismayed, as for many 
a year afterward he directed the same wild storm, he stood 
upon the platform in all the beauty and grace of imperial 
youth, — the Greeks would have said a god descended, — and 
in words that touched the mind and heart and conscience of 
that vast multitude, as with fire from heaven, recalling 
Boston to herself, he saved his native city and her Cradle 
of Liberty from the damning disgrace of stoning the first 
martyr in the great struggle for personal freedom. "Mr. 
Chairman," he said, "when I heard the gentleman lay down 
principles which placed the rioters, incendiaries, and mur- 
derers of Alton, side by side with Otis and Hancock, and 
Quincy and Adams, I thought those pictured lips would 
have broken into voice to rebuke the recreant American 
— the slanderer of the dead." And even as he spoke the 
vision was fulfilled. Once more its native music rang 
through Faneuil Hall. In the orator's own burning words, 
those pictured Ups did break into immortal rebuke. Li 
Wendell Phillips, glowing with holy indignation at the insult 
to America and to man, John Adams and James Otis, 
Josiah Quincy and Samuel Adams, though dead, yet spake. 
In the aimals of American speech there had been no such 

Values and Transitions 99 

scene since Patrick Henry's electrical warning to George 
the Third. It was that greatest of oratorical triumphs 
when a supreme emotion, a sentiment which is to mold a 
people anew, lifted the orator to adequate expression. 
Three such scenes are illustrious in our history : that of the 
speech of Patrick Henry at WiUiamsburg, of Wendell 
Phillips in Faneuil Hall, of Abraham Lincoln in Gettys- 
burg, — three, and there is no fourth. 


From reports of the Webster-Hayne debate in the United States Senate, 

January, 1830 

By Robert Y. Hayne 

In 1825 the gentleman told the world that the public 
lands "ought not to be treated scs a treasure." He now 
tells us that "they must be treated as so much treasure." 
What the deliberate opinion of the gentleman on this sub- 
ject may be, belongs not to me to determine ; but I do not 
think he can, with the shadow of justice or propriety, im- 
pugn my sentiments, while his own recorded opinions are 
identical with my own. When the gentleman refers to 
the conditions of the grants under which the United States 
have acquired these lands, and insists that, as they are 
declared to be "for the common benefit of all the States," 
they can only be treated as so much treasure, I think he has 
applied a rule of construction too narrow for the case. If, 
in the deeds of cession, it has been declared that the grants 
were intended "for the common benefit of all the States," 
it is clear, from other provisions, that they were not in- 
tended merely as so much property ; for it is expressly de- 
clared that the object of the grants is the erection of new 

100 Public Speaking 

States ; and the United States, in accepting this trust, bind 
themselves to facilitate the foundation of those States, to 
be admitted into the Union with all the rights and privi- 
leges of the original States. 

This, sir, was the great end to which all parties looked, 
and it is by the fulfillment of this high trust that "the com- 
mon benefit of all the States" is to be best promoted. Sir, 
let me tell the gentleman that, in the part of the coimtry in 
which I hve, we do not measure pohtical benefits by the 
money standard. We consider as more valuable than 
gold, liberty, principle, and justice. But, sir, if we are 
bound to act on the narrow principles contended for by the 
gentleman, I am wholly at a loss to conceive how he can 
reconcile his principles with his own practice. The lands 
are, it seems, to be treated "as so much treasure," and 
must be applied to the "common benefit of all the States." 
Now, if this be so, whence does he derive the right to appro- 
priate them for partial and local objects? How can the 
gentleman consent to vote away immense bodies of these 
lands for canals in Indiana and Illinois, to the Louisville 
and Portland Canal, to Kenyon College in Ohio, to schools 
for the deaf and dumb, and other objects of a similar 
description ? 


From " Speeches and Presidential Addresses," Current Literature Publish- 
ing Company, New York 

By Abraham Lincoln 

I am filled with deep emotion at finding myself standing 
in this place, where were collected together the wisdom, the 
patriotism, the devotion to principle, from which sprang the 

Values and Transitions 101 

institutions under which we live. You have kindly sug- 
gested to me that in my hands is the task of restoring peace 
to our distracted country. I can say in return, sir, that all 
the political sentiments I entertain have been drawn, so 
far as I have been able to draw them, from the sentiments 
which originated in, and were given to, the world from this 
hall. I have never had a feeling, politically, that did not 
spring from the sentiments embodied in the Declaration of 
Independence. I have often pondered over the dangers 
which were incurred by the men who assembled here and 
framed and adopted that Declaration. I have pondered 
over the toils that were endured by the ofl&cers and soldiers 
of the army who achieved that independence. I have often 
inquired of myself what great principle or idea it was that 
kept this Coiifederacy so long together. It was not the 
mere matter of separation of the colonies from the mother- 
land, but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence 
which gave liberty not alone to the people of this country, 
but hope to all the world, for all future time. It was that 
which gave promise that in due time the weights would be 
lifted from the shoulders of all men, and that aU should have 
an equal chance. This is the sentiment embodied in the 
Declaration of Independence. Now, my friends, can this 
country be saved on that basis ? If it can, I shall consider 
myself one of the happiest men in the world if I can help to 
save it. If it cannot be saved upon that principle, it will 
be truly awful. But if this country cannot be saved without 
giving up that principle, I was about to say I would rather 
be assassinated on this spot than surrender it. Now, in my 
view of the present aspect of affairs, there is no need of 
bloodshed and war. There is no necessity for it. I am not 

102 Public Speaking 

in favor of such a course ; and I may say in advance that 
there will be no bloodshed unless it is forced upon the gov- 
ernment. The government will not use force, imless force 
is used against it. 

My friends, this is wholly an unprepared speech. I did 
not expect to be called on to say a word when I came here. 
I supposed I was merely to do something toward raising a 
flag. I may, therefore, have said something indiscreet. 
But I have said nothing but what I am willing to live by, 
and, if it be the pleasure of Almighty God, to die by. 



From " Speeches and Addresses," with the permission of the author 
and of Houghton Mifflin Company, publishers 

By Henry Cabot Lodge 

I was a boy ten years old when the troops marched away 
to defend Washington. I saw the troops, month after 
month, pour through the streets of Boston. I saw Shaw 
go forth at the head of his black regiment, and Bartlett, 
shattered in body, but dauntless in soul, ride by to carry 
what was left of him once more to the battlefields of the 
Republic. I saw Andrew, standing bareheaded on the 
steps of the State House, bid the men godspeed. I cannot 
remember the words he said, but I can never forget the 
fervid eloquence which brought tears to the eyes and fire 
to the hearts of aU who listened. To my boyish mind one 
thing alone was clear, that the soldiers, as they marched 
past, were all, in that supreme hour, heroes and patriots. 
Other feelings have, in the progress of time, altered much, 
but amid many changes that simple behef of boyhood has 
never altered. 

And you, brave men who wore the gray, would be the 
first to hold me or any other son of the North in just con- 
tempt if I should say that now it was all over I thought the 
North was wrong and the result of the war a mistake. To 
the men who fought the battles of the Confederacy we hold 
out our hands freely, frankly, and gladly. We have no 


104 Public Speaking 

bitter memories to revive, no reproaches to utter. Dif- 
fer in politics and in a thousand other ways we must and 
shall in all good nature, but never let us differ with each 
other on sectional or state lines, by race or creed. 

We welcome you, soldiers of Virginia, as others more elo- 
quent than I have said, to New England. We welcome you 
to old Massachusetts. We welcome you to Boston and to 
Faneuil Hall. In your presence here, and at the sound of 
your voices beneath this historic roof, the years roll back, 
and we see the figure and hear again the ringing tones cf 
your great orator, Patrick Henry, declaring to the first 
Continental Congress, "The distinctions between Vir- 
ginians, Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers, and New England- 
ers are no more. I am not a Virginian, but an American." 

A distinguished Frenchman, as he stood among the graves 
of ArUngton, said: "Only a great people is capable of a 
great civil war." Let us add with thankful hearts that 
only a great people is capable of a great reconciliation. 
Side by side Virginia and Massachusetts led the colonies 
into the War for Independence. Side by side they foimded 
the government of the United States. Morgan and Greene, 
Lee and Knox, Moultrie and Prescott, men of the South 
and men of the North, fought shoulder to shoulder, and 
wore the same imiform of buff and blue, •— the imiform of 

Mere sentiment all this, some may say. But it is senti- 
ment, true sentiment, that has moved the world. Senti- 
ment fought the war, and sentiment has reunited us. 

So I say that the sentiment manifested by your presence 
here, brethren of Virginia, sitting side by side with those 
who wore the blue, teUs us that if war should break again 

Expressing the Feeling 105 

upon the country the sons of Virginia and Massachusetts 
would, as in the olden days, stand once more shoulder to 
shoulder, with no distinction in the colors that they wear. 
It is fraught with tidings of peace on earth, and you may 
read its meaning in the words on yonder picture, "Liberty 
and union, now and forever, one and inseparable !" 


From Webster's reply to Hayne in the United States Senate, January, 
1830, Little, Brown and Company, Boston, publishers 

By Daniel Webster 

If, sir, the honorable member, modestice gratia, had chosen 
thus to defer to his friend and to pay him a compHment 
without intentional disparagement to others, it would have 
been quite according to the friendly courtesies of debate, 
and not at all ungrateful to my own feelings. I am not 
one of those, sir, who esteem any tribute of regard, whether 
light and occasional or more serious and dehberate, which 
may be bestowed on others, as so much unjustly withholden 
from themselves. But the tone and manner of the gentle- 
man's question forbid me thus to interpret it. I am not 
at liberty to consider it as nothing more than a civility to 
his friend. It had an air of taimt and disparagement, 
something of the loftiness of asserted superiority, which 
does not allow me to pass it over without notice. It was 
put as a question for me to answer, and so put as if it were 
difiScult for me to answer, whether I deemed the member 
from Missouri an overmatch for myself in debate here. 
It seems to me, sir, that this is extraordinary language and 
an extraordinary tone for the discussions of this body. 

106 Public Speaking 

Matches and overmatches ! Those terms are more appli- 
cable elsewhere than here, and fitter for other assemblies 
than this. Sir, the gentleman seems to forget where and 
what we are. This is a senate, a senate of equals, of men of 
individual honor and personal character and of absolute 
independence. We know no masters, we acknowledge no 
dictators. This is a hall for mutual consultation and dis- 
cussion; not an arena for the exhibitions of champions. 
I offer myself, sir, as a match for no man ; I throw the chal- 
lenge of debate at no man's feet. But then, sir, since the 
honorable member has put the question in a manner that 
calls for an answer, I will give him an answer ; and tell him 
that, holding myself to be the himiblest of the members 
here, I yet know nothing in the arm of his friend from Mis- 
souri, either alone or when aided by the arm of his friend 
from South Carolina, that need deter even me from es- 
pousing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from 
debating whenever I may choose to debate, or from speak- 
ing whatever I may see fit to say on the floor of the Senate. 


From the reply to Hayne 

"The Great Speeches and Orations of Daniel Webster," Little, Brown 
and Company, Boston, publishers 

By Daniel Webster 

Sir, I shall not allow myself, on this occasion, I hope on 
no occasion, to betray myself into any loss of temper ; but 
if provoked, as I trust I never shall be, into crimination 
and recrimination, the honorable member may perhaps 
find that, in that contest, there will be blows to take as 
well as to give ; that others can state comparisons as sig- 

Expressing the Feeling 107 

nificant, at least, as his own, and that his impunity may 
possibly demand of him whatever powers of taunt and 
sarcasm he may possess. I commend him to a prudent 
husbandry of his resources. 

But, sir, the Coalition! The Coalition! Aye, "the 
murdered Coalition !" The gentleman asks if I were led 
or frighted into this debate by the specter of the CoaUtion. 
"Was it the ghost of the murdered Coalition," he exclaims, 
"which haunted the member from Massachusetts; and 
which, like the ghost of Banquo, would never down?" 
"The murdered Coalition!" Sir, this charge of a coali- 
tion, in reference to the late administration, is not original 
with the honorable member. It did not spring up in the 
Senate. Whether as a fact, as an argument, or as an em- 
bellishment, it is all borrowed. He adopts it, indeed, from 
a very low origin, and a still lower present condition. It is 
one of the thousand calumnies with which the press teemed 
during an excited political canvass. It was a charge of 
which there was not only no proof or probability, but which 
was in itself wholly impossible to be true. No man of 
common information ever beHeved a syllable of it. Yet it 
was of that class of falsehoods which, by continued repeti- 
tion, through all the organs of detraction and abuse, are 
capable of misleading those who are already far misled, and 
of further farming passion already kindling into flame. 
Doubtless it served in its day, and in greater or less degree, 
the end designed by it. Having done that, it has sunk into 
the general mass of stale and loathed calxunnies. It is the 
very cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless press. In- 
capable of further mischief, it lies in the sewer, lifeless and 
despised. It is not now, sir, in the power of the honorable 

108 Public Speaking 

member to give it dignity or decency by attempting to ele- 
vate it and to introduce it into the Senate. He cannot 
change it from what it is, an object of general disgust and 
scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he choose to touch 
it, is more likely to drag him down, down to the place where 
it lies itself. 

By Robert Emmet 

I am asked what I have to say why sentence of death 
should not be pronounced on me, according to law. 

I am charged with being an emissary of France. An 
emissary of France ! and for what end ? It is alleged that 
I wish to sell the independence of my coimtry; and for 
what end ? Was this the object of my ambition ? And is 
this the mode by which a tribunal of justice reconciles con- 
tradictions ? No; I am no emissary; and my ambition was 
to hold a place among the deliverers of my country, not in 
power nor in profit, but in the glory of the achievement. 
Sell my country's independence to France! and for what? 
Was it for a change of masters? No, but for ambition. 

my coimtry! was it personal ambition that could influ- 
ence me ? Had it been the soul of my actions, could I not 
by my education and fortune, by the rank and considera- 
tion of my family, have placed myself amongst the proud- 
est of your oppressors? My country was my idol! To it 

1 sacrificed every selfish, every endearing sentiment; and 
for it I now offer up my life. 

My lords, you are impatient for the sacrifice. Be yet 
patient! I have but a few more words to say — I am going 

Expressing the Feeling 109 

to my cold and silent grave — my lamp of life is nearly 
extinguished — my race is run — the grave opens to receive 
me, and I sink into its bosom. I have but one request to 
ask at my departure from this world : it is — the charity 
of its silence. Let no man write my epitaph; for, as no 
man who knows my motives dares now vindicate them, let 
not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and 
me rest in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain imin- 
scribed, until other times and other men can do justice to 
my character. When my country takes her place among 
the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my 
epitaph be written. I have done. 


From a speech in the Provincial Convention, Virginia, March, 1775 
By Patrick Henry 

I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if 
its purpose be not to force us to submission ? Can gentle- 
men assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great 
Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world, to call for 
all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she 
has none. They are meant for us ; they can be meant for 
no other. They are sent over to bind and to rivet upon 
us those chains which the British ministry have been so 
long forging. And what have we to oppose them ? Shall 
we try argument? Sir, we have been trying that for the 
last ten years. Have we anything new to offer upon the 
subject ? Nothing. We have held the subject up in every 
light of which it is capable ; but it has been all in vain. 
Shall we resort to entreaty and humble supplication? 

110 Public Speaking 

What terms shall we find which have not been already ex- 
hausted ? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, deceive ourselves 
longer. Sir, we have done everything that could be done 
to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have 
petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we 
have prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have 
implored its interposition to arrest the tyrannical hands of 
the ministry and parliament. Our petitions have been 
slighted; our remonstrances have produced additional 
violence and insult; our supplications have been disre- 
garded; and we have been spurned with contempt from 
the foot of the throne. In vain, after all these things, may 
we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. There 
is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, if 
we mean to preserve inviolate these inestimable privileges 
for which we have been so long contending ; if we mean not 
basely to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been 
so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never 
to abandon untU the glorious object of our contest shall be 
obtained, we must fight ; I repeat it, eir, we must fight ! 
An appeal to arms, and to the God of Hosts, is aU that is 
left us ! 


From a reprint in "A Modern Reader and Speaker,'' by George Ridde, 
Duffield and Company, New York, publishers 

By Victor Hugo 

I have entered the Usts with the actual ruler of Europe, 
for it is well for the world that I should exhibit the picture. 
Louis Bonaparte is the intoxication of triumph. He is the 
incarnation of merry yet savage despotism. He is the mad 

Expressing the Feeling 111 

plenitude of power seeking for limits, but finding them not, 
neither in men nor facts. Louis Bonaparte holds France ; 
and he who holds France holds the world. He is master 
of the votes, master of consciences, master of the people ; 
he names his successor, does away with eternity, and places 
the future in a sealed envelope. Thirty eager newspaper 
correspondents inform the world that he has frowned, and 
every electric wire quivers if he raises his httle finger. 
Around him is heard the clanking of the saber and the roll 
of the drum. He is seated in the shadow of the eagles, 
begirt by ramparts and bayonets. Free people tremble and 
conceal their liberty lest he should rob them of it. The 
great American Republic even hesitates before him, and 
dares not withdraw her ambassador. 

Europe awaits his invasion. He is able to do as he wishes, 
and he dreams of impossibilities. Well, this master, this 
triumphant conqueror, this vanquisher, this dictator, this 
emperor, this all-powerful man, one lonely man, robbed 
and ruined, dares to rise up and attack. 

Yes, I attack Louis Napoleon ; I attack him openly, be- 
fore all the world. I attack him before God and man. I 
attack him boldly and recklessly for love of the people and 
for love of France. He is going to be an emperor. Let 
him be one ; but let him remember that, though you may 
secure an empire, you cannot secure an easy conscience ! 

This is the man by whom France is governed ! Governed, 
do I say ? — possessed in supreme and sovereign sway ! 
And every day, and every morning, by his decrees, by his 
messages, by all the incredible drivel which he parades in 
the "Moniteur," this emigrant, who knows not France, 
teaches France her lesson ! and this ruffian tells France he 

112 Public Speaking 

has saved her ! And from whom ? From herself ! Before 
him, Providence committed only follies ; God was waiting 
for him to reduce everything to order ; at last he has come ! 


For thirty-six years there had been in France all sorts 
of pernicious things, — the tribune, a vociferous thing ; the 
press, an obstreperous thing; thought, an insolent thing, 
and liberty, the most crying abuse of all. But he came, and 
for the tribune he has substituted the Senate ; for the press, 
the censorship; for thought, imbecility; and for liberty, 
the saber ; and by the saber and the Senate, by imbeciUty 
and censorship, France is saved. Saved, bravo ! And 
from whom, I repeat ? From herself. For what was this 
France of ours, if you please ? A horde of marauders and 
thieves, of anarchists, assassins, and demagogues. She had 
to be manacled, had this mad woman, France ; and it is 
Monsieur Louis Bonaparte who puts the handcuffs on her. 
Now she is in a dungeon, on a diet of bread and water, pun- 
ished, humiliated, garotted, safely cared for. Be not dis- 
turbed; Monsieur Bonaparte, a policeman stationed at 
the Elysee, is answerable for her to Europe. He makes it 
his business to be so ; this wretched France is in the strait- 
jacket, and if she stirs — Ah, what is this spectacle before 
our eyes ? Is it a dream ? Is it a nightmare ? On one 
side a nation, the first of nations, and on the other, a man, 
the last of men ; and this is what this man does to this na- 
tion. What ! he tramples her under his feet, he laughs in 
her face, he mocks and taunts her, he disowns, insults, and 
flouts her ! What ! he says, "I alone am worthy of consider- 
ation !" What ! in this land of France where none would 

Expressing the Feeling 113 

dare to slap the face of his fellow, this man can slap the 
face of the nation ? Oh, the abominable shame of it all ! 
Every time that Monsieur Bonaparte spits, every face 
must be wiped ! And this can last ! and you tell me it 
will last ! No ! No ! by every drop in every vein, no ! 
It shall not last ! Ah, if this did last, it would be in very 
truth because there would no longer be a God in heaven, 
nor a France on earth ! 



From the play, " Foscari " 

By Mary Russell Mitford 

Doge. What ! didst thou never hear 
Of the old prediction that was verified 
When I became the Doge ? 

Zeno. An old prediction ! 

Doge. Some seventy years ago — it seems to me 
As fresh as yesterday — being then a lad 
No higher than my hand, idle as an heir, 
And all made up of gay and truant sports, 
I flew a kite, unmatched in shape or size, 
Over the river — we were at our house 
Upon the Brenta then ; it soared aloft, 
Driven by light vigorous breezes from the sea 
Soared buoyantly, till the diminished toy 
Grew smaller than the falcon when she stoops 
To dart upon her prey. I sent for cord. 
Servant on servant hurrying, till the kite 
Shrank to the size of a beetle : still I called 
For cord, and sent to summon father, mother, 
My little sisters, my old halting nurse, — 
I would have had the whole world to survey 
Me and my wondrous kite. It still soared oh, 
And I stood bending back in ecstasy, 


Showing the Picture 115 

My eyes on that small point, clapping my hands, 

And shouting, and half envying it the flight 

That made it a companion of the stars, 

When close beside me a deep voice exclaimed — 

Aye, moxmt ! mount ! mount ! — I started back, and saw 

A tall and aged woman, one of the wild 

Peculiar people whom wild Hungary sends 

Roving through every land. She drew her cloak 

About her, tiu-ned her black eyes up to Heaven, 

And thus pursued : Aye, like his fortunes, mount, 

The future Doge of Venice ! And before 

For very wonder any one could speak 

She disappeared. 

Zeno. Strange ! Hast thou never seen 
That woman since ? 

Doge. I never saw her more. 


From "Tennjrson's Poetical Works," published by Houghton Mifflin 
Company, Boston 

By Alfred Loed Tennyson 

"Shall we fight or shall we fly ? 

Good Sir Richard, teU us now. 

For to fight is but to die ! 

There'll be little of us left by the time this sun be set." 

And Sir Richard said again : "We be aU good EngKshmen. 

Let us bang these dogs of Seville, the children of the devil. 

For I never turned my back upon don or devil yet." 

Sir Richard spoke and he laughed, and we roar'd a hurrah, 

and so 
The little Revenge ran on sheer into the heart of the foe. 

116 Public Speaking 

With her hundred fighters on deck, and her ninety sick 

below ; 
For half of their fleet to the right and half to the left were 

And the Httle Revenge ran on thro' the long sea lane 


And while now the great San Philip hung above us like 

a cloud 
Whence the thunderbolt wiU fall 
Long and loud, 
FoulT galleons drew away 
From the Spanish fleet that day. 
And two upon the larboard and two upon the starboard 

And the battle-thunder broke from them all. 

And the sun went down, and the stars came out, far over 
the summer sea. 

But never a moment ceased the fight of the one and the 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, their high-built gal- 
leons came. 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, with her battle-thun- 
der and flame ; 

Ship after ship, the whole night long, drew back with her 
dead and her shame. 

For some were sunk, and many were shatter'd, and so could 
fight us no more — 

God of battles, was ever a battle like this in the world 
before ? 

Showing the Picture 117 

For he said : "Fight on ! fight on !" 
Tho' his vessel was all but a wreck ; 
And it chanced that, when half of the summer night was 

With a grisly wound to be dressed, he had left the deck, 
But a bullet struck him that was dressing it suddenly dead, 
And himself he was wounded again, in the side and the head, 
And he said : "Fight on ! Fight on !" 

And the night went down, and the sim smiled out far over 

the summer sea, 
And the Spanish fleet with broken sides lay round us aU in 

a ring ; 
But they dared not touch us again, for they feared that we 

still could sting, 
So they watched what the end would be. 
And we had not fought them in vain, 
But in perilous plight were we, 
Seeing forty of our poor hundred were slain 
And half of the rest of us maimed for Ufe 
In the crash of the cannonades and the desperate strife ; 
And the sick men down in the hold were most of them stark 

and cold. 
And the pikes were all broken and bent, and the powder 

was all of it spent ; 
And the masts and the rigging were lying over the side ; 
But Sir Richard cried in his EngUsh pride, 
"We have fought such a fight for a day and a night 
As may never be fought again ! 
We have won great glory, my men ! 
And a day less or more 

118 Public Speaking 

At sea or ashore, 

We die — does it matter when ? 

Sink me the ship, Master Gmmer — sink her, split her in 

twain ! 
Fall into the hands of (Jod, not into the hands of Spain ! " 


From a Memorial Day address, with the permission of C. P. Farrell, New 
York, publisher and owner of the Ingersoll copyrighted books 

By Robert G. Ingersoll 

The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in 
the great struggle for national Ufe. We hear the sounds of 
preparation; the music of boisterous drums; the silver 
voices of heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, 
and hear the appeals of orators. We see the pale cheeks of 
women, and the flushed faces of men ; and in those assem- 
blages we see all the dead whose dust we have covered with 
flowers. We lose sight of them no more. We are with 
them when they enlist in the great army of freedom. We 
see them part with those they love. Some are walking for 
the last time in quiet, woody places with the maidens they 
adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of 
eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are 
bending over cradles, kissing babes that are asleep. Some are 
receiving the blessings of old men. Some are parting with 
mothers who hold them and press them to their hearts again 
and again and say nothing. Kisses and tears, tears and 
kisses — divine mingling of agony and joy ! And some are 
talking with wives, and endeavoring with brave words, 
spoken in the old tones, to drive from their hearts the awful 
fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the 

Showing the Picture 119 

door with the babe in her arms — standing in the sxmlight, 
sobbing. At the turn in the road a hand waves — she an- 
swers by holding high in her loving arms the child. He is 
gone, and forever. 

We see them all as they march proudly away imder the 
flaunting flags, keepmg time to the grand, wild music of 
war, — marching down the streets of the great cities, 
through the towns and across the prairies, down to the fields 
of glory, to do and to die for the eternal right. 

A vision of the future rises : — 

I see our country filled with happy homes, with firesides 
of content — the foremost of all the earth. 

I see a world where thrones have crumbled and kings 
are dust. The aristocracy of idleness has perished from 
the earth. 

I see a world without a slave. Man at last is free. Na- 
ture's forces have by science been enslaved. Lightning 
and light, wind and wave, frost and flame, and all the secret- 
subtle powers of earth and air are the tireless toilers forjhe 
human race. 

I see a world at peace, adorned with every form of art, 
with music's myriad voices thrilled, while lips are rich with 
words of love and truth ; a world in which no exile sighs, 
no prisoner mourns ; a world on which the gibbet's shadow 
does not fall; a world where labor reaps its full reward, 
where work and worth go hand in hand, where the poor 
girl trjdng to win bread with the needle — the needle that 
has been called "the asp for the breast of the poor" — is 
not driven to the desperate choice of crime or death, of 
suicide or shame. 

I see a world without the beggar's outstretched palm. 

120 Public Speaking 

the miser's heartless, stony stare, the piteous wail of want, 
the livid lips of lies, the cruel eyes of scorn. 

I see a race without disease of flesh or brain, — shapely 
and fair, — the married harmony of form and function, — 
and, as I look, life lengthens, joy deepens, love canopies the 
earth ; and over all, in the great dome, shines the eternal 
star of human hope. 


From an article in the Century Magazine, June, 1906, with the permission 
of the Century Company and of the author 

By Corwin Knapp Linson 

To our Northern eyes the intense brilliancy of the tropical 
and semi-tropical sky comes as a revelation. Sometimes 
at noon it is painfully dazzling ; but the evening is a vision 
of prismatic light holding carnival in the air, wherein Mil- 
ton's "twiHght gray" has no part. Unless the sky is held 
in the relentless grip of a winter storm, the Orient holds no 
gray in its evening tones ; these are translucent and glow- 
ing from the setting of the sun until the stars appear. In 
Greece we are dreamers in that subtle atmosphere, and 
in Eg37pt visionaries under the spell of an ethereal loveliness 
where the filigree patterning of white dome and minaret 
and interlacing palm and feathery pepper tree leaves little 
wonder in the mind that the ornamentation of their archi- 
tecture is so ravishing in its tracery. 

Outside the walls of Jerusalem on the north there is a 
point on a knoll which commands the venerable city that 
David took for his own. From here you can watch the 
variable glow of color spread over the whole breadth of 
cotmtry, from the ground at one's feet to the distant purple 

Showing the Picture 121 

hilltops of Bethlehem. The fluid air seems to swim, as 
if laden with incense. The rocks underfoot are of all tones 
of lavender in shadow, and of tender, warm gleams in the 
Kght, casting vivid violet shadows athwart the mottled 
orange of the ground. 

Down in the httle vaUey just below us a tiny vineyard 
nestles in the half-Ught ; the gray road trails outside ; and 
beyond rise the walls, serene and stately, catching on their 
highest towers the last rays of the sim. 

The pointed shaft of the German chiu-ch lifts a gray- 
green finger tipped with rose into the ambient air. The 
sable dome of the Holy Sepulcher 3delds a Httle to the subtle 
influence, and shows a softer and more becoming purple. 

AU the imlovely traits and the squalor of the city are 
lost, so delicately tender is the mass of buildings painted 
against the background of distance. 

It had been one of those days in March when the clouds 
of "the latter rains" had been blowing from the west. As 
the day drew near its close, the heavy mists assembled in 
great masses of ominous gray and blue, golden-edged against 
the turquoise sky. With such speed did they move that 
they seemed suddenly to leap from the horizon, and the 
vast dome of the heaven became filled with weird, flying 
monsters racing overhead. The violence of the wind tore 
the blue into fragments, so that what only a moment since 
was a colossal weight of cloud threatening to ingulf the uni- 
verse, was now Hke a great host marshaled in splendid array, 
flying banners of crimson, whose ranks were ever changing, 
imtil they scattered in disordered flight across the face of 
the sky. 

As the lowering sun neared the horizon, the color grew 

122 Public Speaking 

more and more vivid, until the whole heaven was aflame 
with a whirlwind of scarlet and gold and crimson, of violet 
and blue and emerald, flecked with copper and bronze and 
shreds of smoky clouds in shadow, a tempestuous riot of 
color so wild and extraordinary as to hold one spellboimd. 
Had not David beheld a similar sky when he wrote : — 

O Lord my God, thou art very great ; 

Thou art clothed with honor and majesty. 

Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment : 

Who stretchest out the heavens like a curtain : 

Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters : 

Who maketh the clouds his chariot : 

Who walketh upon the wings of the wind : 

Who maketh winds his messengers ; 

His ministers a flaming fire. 


From a speech before the New England Society of New York, December, 


By T. De Witt Talmage 

I never so realized what this country was and is as on the 
day when I first saw some of these gentlemen of the Army 
and Navy. It was when at the close of the War our armies 
came back and marched in review before the President's 
stand at Washington. I do not care whether a man was a 
Republican or a Democrat, a Northern man or a Southern 
man, if he had any emotion of nature, he could not look 
upon it without weeping. God knew that the day was 
stupendous, and He cleared the heaven of cloud and mist 
and chill, and sprung the blue sky as the trixxmphal arch 
for the returning warriors to pass under. From Arlington 
Heights the spring foliage shook out its welcome, as the 
hosts came over the hills, and the sparkling waters of the 

Showing the Picture 123 

Potomac tossed their gold to the feet of the battalions as 
they came to the Long Bridge and in almost interminable 
line passed over. The Capitol never seemed so majestic 
as on that morning : snowy white, looking down upon the 
tides of men that came svirging down, billow after billow. 
Passing in silence, yet I heard in every step the thmider of 
conflicts through which they had waded, and seemed to see 
dripping from their smoke-blackened flags the blood of our 
country's martyrs. For the best part of two days we stood 
and watched the filing on of what seemed endless battal- 
ions, brigade after brigade, division after division, host 
after host, rank beyond rank ; ever moving, ever passing ; 
marching, marching ; tramp, tramp, tramp — thousands 
after thousands, battery front, arms shouldered, columns 
solid, shoulder to shoulder, wheel to wheel, charger to char- 
ger, nostril to nostril. 

Commanders on horses with their manes entwined with 
roses, and necks enchained with garlands, fractious at the 
shouts that ran along the line, increasing from the clapping 
of children clothed in white, standing on the steps of the 
Capitol, to the tumultuous vociferation of hundreds of 
thousands of enraptured multitudes, crying "Huzza ! 
Hvizza !" Gleaming muskets, thimdering parks of artil- 
lery, rumbling pontoon wagons, ambulances from whose 
wheels seemed to soimd out the groans of the crushed and 
the dying that they had carried. These men came from 
balmy Minnesota, those from Illinois prairies. These 
were often hummed to sleep by the pines of Oregon, those 
were New England lumbermen. Those came out of the 
coal-shafts of Pennsylvania. Side by side in one great 
cause, consecrated through fire and storm and darkness, 
brothers in peril, on their way home from Chancellorsville 

124 Public Speaking 

and Kenesaw Mountain and Fredericksburg, in lines that 
seemed infinite they passed on. 

We gazed and wept and wondered, lifting up our heads 
to see if the end had come, but no ! Looking from one end 
of that long avenue to the other, we saw them yet in solid 
column, battery front, host beyond host, wheel to wheel, 
charger to charger, nostril to nostril, coming as it were from 
imder the Capitol. Forward ! Forward ! Their bayo- 
nets, caught in the sun, glimmered and flashed and blazed, 
till they seemed like one long river of silver, ever and anon 
changed into a river of fire. No end of the procession, no 
rest for the eyes. We turned our heads from the scene, 
unable longer to look. We felt disposed to stop our ears, 
but still we heard it, marching, marching; tramp, tramp, 
tramp. But hush, — uncover every head ! Here they 
pass, the remnant of ten men of a full regiment. Silence ! 
Widowhood and orphanage look on and wring their hands. 
But wheel into line, all ye people ! North, South, East, 
West — all decades, all centuries, all millenniums ! For- 
ward, the whole line ! Huzza ! Huzza ! 


From " The New South," with the permission of Henry W. Grady, Junior 

By Henry W. Grady 

Dr. Talmage has drawn for you, with a master hand, the 
picture of your returning armies. He has told you how, in 
the pomp and circumstance of war, they came back to you, 
marching with proud and victorious tread, reading their 
glory in a nation's eyes ! Will you bear with me while I 
tell you of another army that sought its home at the close 
of the late war? An army that marched home in defeat 

Showing the Picture 125 

and not in victory — in pathos and not in splendor, but in 
glory that equaled yours, and to hearts as loving as ever 
welcomed heroes home. Let me picture to you the foot- 
sore Confederate soldier, as, buttoning up in his faded gray 
jacket the parole which was to bear testimony to his chil- 
dren of his fidehty and faith, he turned his face southward 
from Appomattox in April, 1865. Think of him, as ragged, 
half-starved, heavy-hearted, enfeebled by want and wounds, 
having fought to exhaustion, he surrenders his gun, wrings 
the hands of his comrades in silence, and, Kfting his tear- 
stained and pallid face for the last time to the graves that 
dot the old Virginia hills, pulls his gray cap over his brow 
and begins the slow and painful journey. What does he 
find ? — let me ask you who went to your homes eager to 
find, in the welcome you had justly earned, full payment 
for four years' sacrifice — what does he find when, having 
followed the battle-stained cross against overwhelming 
odds, dreading death not half so much as surrender, he 
reaches the home he left so prosperous and beautiful ? He 
finds his house in ruins, his farm devastated, his slaves free, 
his stock killed, his barn empty, his trade destroyed, his 
money worthless ; his social system, feudal in its magnifi- 
cence, swept away ; his people without law or legal status ; 
his comrades slain, and the burdens of others heavy on his 
shoulders. Crushed by defeat, his very traditions gone; 
without money, credit, employment, material training; 
and besides all this, confronted with the gravest problem 
that ever met human intelligence —- the establishing of a 
status for the vast body of his Hberated slaves. 

What does he do — this hero in gray, with a heart of gold ? 
Does he sit down in sullenness and despair ? Not for a day. 

126 Public Speaking 

Surely God, who had stripped him of his prosperity, in- 
spired him in his adversity. As ruin was never before so 
overwhelming, never was restoration swifter. The soldier 
stepped from the trenches into the furrow ; horses that had 
charged Federal guns marched before the plow, and the 
fields that ran red with human blood in April were green 
with the harvest in June ; women reared in luxury cut up 
their dresses and made breeches for their husbands, and, 
with a patience and heroism that fit women always as a 
garment, gave their hands to work. There was little bit- 
terness in all this. Cheerfulness and frankness prevailed. 
I want to say to General Sherman — who is considered 
an able man in our parts, though some people think he 
is kind of careless about fire — that from the ashes he 
left us in 1864 we have raised a brave and beautiful city ; 
that somehow or other we have caught the sunshine in the 
bricks and mortar of our homes, and have builded therein 
not one ignoble prejudice or memory. 

But in aU this what have we accomplished? What is 
the sum of our work ? We have found that in the general 
summary the free negro counts more than he did as a slave. 
We have planted the schoolhouse on the hilltop and made 
it free to white and black. We have sowed towns and 
cities in the place of theories, and put business above 

Above all, we know that we have achieved in these "pip- 
ing times of peace" a fuller independence for the South than 
that which our fathers sought to win in the forum by their 
eloquence, or compel on the field by their swords. 



From a speech before the New England Society of New York, December, 


By T. De Witt Taxmage 

I must not introduce a new habit into these New England 
dinners, and confine myself to the one theme. For eighty- 
one years your speakers have been accustomed to make 
the toast announced the point from which they start, but 
to which they never return. So I shall not stick to my 
text, but only be particular to have all I say my own, and 
not make the mistake of a minister whose sermon was a 
patchwork from a variety of authors, to whom he gave no 
credit. There was an intoxicated wag in the audience who 
had read about everything, and he announced the authors 
as the minister went on. The clergyman gave an extract 
without any credit to the author, and the man in the audi- 
ence cried out: "That's Jeremy Taylor." The speaker 
went on and gave an extract from another author without 
credit for it, and the man in the audience said : "That is 
John Wesley." The minister gave an extract from another 
without credit for it, and the man in the audience said : 
"That is George Whitefield." When the minister lost his 
patience and cried out, "Shut up, you old fool !" the man 
in the audience replied : "That is your own." 

Well, what about this Forefathers' Day? In Brooklyn 


128 Public Speaking 

they say the Landing of the Pilgrims was December the 
2ist; in New York you say it was December the 22d. 
You are both right. Not through the specious and artful 
reasoning you have sometimes indulged in, but by a little 
historical incident that seems to have escaped your atten- 
tion. You see, the Forefathers landed in the. morning of 
December the 21st, but about noon that day a pack of 
hungry wolves swept down the bleak American beach look- 
ing for a New England dinner and a band of savages out for 
a tomahawk picnic hove in sight, and the Pilgrim Fathers 
thought it best for safety and warmth to go on board the 
Mayflower and pass the night. And during the night there 
came up a strong wind blowing off shore that swept the 
Mayflower from its moorings clear out to sea, and there 
was a prospect that our Forefathers, having escaped op- 
pression in foreign lands, would yet go down under an 
oceanic tempest. But the next day they fortunately got 
control of their ship and steered her in, and the second time 
the Forefathers stepped ashore. 

Brooklyn celebrated the first landing; New York the 
second landing. So I say Hail ! Hail ! to both celebrations, 
for one day, anyhow, could not do justice to such a subject ; 
and I only wish I could have kissed the blarney stone of 
America, which is Plymouth Rock, so that I might have 
done justice to this subject. Ah, gentlemen, that May- 
flower was the ark that floated the deluge of oppression, 
and Pljonouth Rock was the Ararat on which it landed. 

But let me say that these Forefathers were of no more im- 
portance than the Foremothers. As I understand it, there 
were eight of them— that is, four fathers and four mothers — 
from whom all these illustrious New Englanders descended. 

Expression by Action 129 

Now I was not born in New England, but though not 
born in New England, in my boyhood I had a New England 
schoolmaster, whom I shall never forget. He taught us 
our A, B, C's. "What is that?" "I don't know, sir." 
"That's A" (with a slap). "What is that?" "I don't 
know, sir." (With a slap) — "That is B." I tell you, a 
boy that learned his letters in that way never forgot them ; 
and if the boy was particiilarly dull, then this New England 
schoolmaster would take him over his knee, and then the 
boy got his information from both directions. 

But all these things aside, no one sitting at these tables 
has higher admiration for the Pilgrim Fathers than I have 
— the men who believed in two great doctrines, which are 
the fotmdation of every religion that is worth anything : 
namely, the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of 
Man — these men of backbone and endowed with that 
great and magnificent attribute of stick-to-it-iveness. 


From " Julius Caesar " 

By Wn,LiAM Shakespeare 

I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, 
As well as I do know your outward favor. 
Well, honor is the subject of my story. — 
I cannot tell what you and other men 
Think of this hfe ; but, for my single self, 
1 had as lief not be as hve to be 
In awe of such a thing as I myself. 
I was born free as Caesar ; so were you : 

130 Public Speaking 

We both have fed as well ; and we can both 

Endure the winter's cold as well as he : 

For once, upon a raw and gusty day, 

The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, 

Caesar said to me, "Dar'st thou, Cassius, now 

Leap in with me into this angry flood. 

And swim to yonder point ? " Upon the word, 

Accoutred as I was, I plvmged in. 

And bade him follow : so, indeed, he did. 

The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it 

With lusty sinews, throwing it aside 

And stemming it with hearts of controversy ; 

But ere we could arrive the point propos'd, 

Caesar cried, "Help me, Cassius, or I sink !" 

I, as .^neas, our great ancestor. 

Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder 

The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber 

Did I the tired Caesar. And this man 

Is now become a god ; and Cassius is 

A wretched creature, and must bend his body, 

If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. 

He had a fever when he was in Spain, 

And, when the fit was on him, I did mark 

How he did shake : 'tis true, this god did shake : 

His coward lips did from their color fly ; 

And that same eye, whose bend doth awe the world, 

Did lose his luster : I did hear him groan : 

Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 

Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 

Alas, it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius," 

As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me 

Expression by Action 131 

A man of such a feeble temper should 
So get the start of the majestic world, 
And bear the palm alone. 

Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world 
Like a Colossus, and we petty men 
Walk under his huge legs and peep about 
To find ourselves dishonourable graves. 
Men at some time are masters of their fates ; 
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, 
But in ourselves, that we are underlings. 
Brutus and Caesar : what should be in that " Caesar" ? 
Why shotdd that name be sounded more than yours ? 
Write them together, yours is as fair a name ; 
Soimd them, it doth become the mouth as well ; 
Weigh them, it is as heavy ; conjure with 'em, 
Brutus wiU start a spirit as soon as Caesar. 
Now, in the names of all the gods at once, 
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed. 
That he is grown so great ? Age, thou art shamed ! 
Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods ! 
When went there by an age, since the great flood. 
But it was fam'd with more than with one man ? 
When could they say till now, that talked of Rome, 
That her wide walls encompass'd but one man ? 
Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough, 
When there is in it but one only man. 
O, you and I have heard our fathers say. 
There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd 
The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome 
As easily as a king. 

132 Public Speaking 


From " The New South," with the permission of Henry W. Grady Junior 

By Henry W. Grady 

The New South is enamored of her new work. Her soul 
is stirred with the breath of a new life. The light of a 
grander day is falling fair on her face. She is thrilling with 
the consciousness of growing power and prosperity. As she 
stands upright, full-statured and equal among the people 
of the earth, breathing the keen air and looking out upon 
the expanding horizon, she understands that her emanci- 
pation came because in the inscrutable wisdom of God her 
honest purpose was crossed and her brave armies were 

This is said in no spirit of time-serving or apology. The 
South has nothing for which to apologize. She believes 
that the late struggle between the States was war and not 
rebelHon, revolution and not conspiracy, and that her 
convictions were as honest as yours. I should be unjust 
to the dauntless spirit of the South and to my own convic- 
tions if I did not make this plain in this presence. The 
South has nothing to take back. In my native town of 
Athens is a monument that crowns its central hills — a 
plain, white shaft. Deep cut into its shining side is a name 
dear to me above the names of men, that of a brave and 
simple man who died in brave and simple faith. Not for 
all the glories of New England — from Plymouth Rock all 
the way — would I exchange the heritage he left me in his 
soldier's death. To the foot of that shaft I shall send my 
children's children to reverence him who ennobled their 
name with his heroic blood. But, sir, speaking from the 
shadow of that memory, which I honor as I do nothing else 

Expression by Action 133 

on earth, I say that the cause in which he suffered and for 
which he gave his Ufe was adjudged by higher and fuller 
wisdom than his or mine, and I am glad that the omnis- 
cient God held the balance of battle in his Almighty hand, 
and that human slavery was swept forever from American 
soil — the American Union saved from the wreck of war. 

This message, Mr. President, comes to you from conse- 
crated groimd. Every foot of the soil about the city in 
which I live is sacred as a battle ground of the Republic. 
Every hill that invests it is hallowed to you by the blood 
of yoiu- brothers, sacred soil to all of us, rich with memories 
that make us purer and stronger and better, speaking an 
eloquent witness in its white peace and prosperity to the 
indissoluble union of American States and the imperishable 
brotherhood of the American people. 

Now what answer has New England to this message? 
Will she permit the prejudices of war to remain in the hearts 
of the conquerors, when it has died in the hearts of the 
conquered? Will she transmit this prejudice to the next 
generation, that in their hearts, which never felt the gen- 
erous ardor of conflict, it may perpetuate itself? Will 
she withhold, save in strained courtesy, the hand which 
straight from his soldier's heart Grant offered to Lee at 
Appomattox? Will she make the vision of a restored and 
happy people, which gathered above the couch of your 
d3dng captain,* filling his heart with grace, touching his lips 
with praise and glorifying his path to the grave; will she 
make this vision on which the last sigh of his expiring soul 
breathed a benediction, a cheat and a delusion? If she 
does, the South, never abject in asking for comradeship, 

^ General Ulysses S. Grant. 

134 Public Speaking 

must accept with dignity a refusal; but if she does not; 
if she accepts in frankness and sincerity this message of 
good will and friendship, then will the prophecy of Webster, 
delivered in this very society forty years ago amid tremen- 
dous applause, be verified in its fullest and final sense, when 
he said : " Standing hand to hand and clasping hands, we 
should remain xuiited as we have been for sixty years, citi- 
zens of the same coimtry, members of the same government, 
imited, all united now and imited forever. There have been 
diflSculties, contentions, and controversies, but I tell you 
that in my judgment, — 

" ' Those opposed eyes, 
Which like the meteors of a troubled heaven, 
AU of one nature, of one substance bred. 
Did lately meet in th' intestine shock, 
Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, 
March all one way.' " 


From the reply to Hayne, in the United States Senate, January, 1830. 
Little, Brown and Company, Boston, Publishers of "The Great 
Speeches and Orations of Daniel Webster." 

By Daniel Webster 

The gentleman, sir, in declining to postpone the debate, 
told the Senate, with the emphasis of his hand upon his heart, 
that there was something rankling here which he wished 
to relieve. It would not, Mr. President, be safe for the 
honorable member to appeal to those around him upon 
the question whether he did in fact make use of that 
word. But he may have been unconscious of it. At 
any rate, it is enough that he disclaims it. But stiU, with 
or without the use of that particular word, he had yet 

Expression by Action 135 

something here, he said, of which he wished to rid him- 
seM by an immediate reply. In this respect, sir, I have 
a great advantage over the honorable gentleman. There 
is nothing here, sir, which gives me the slightest imeasi- 
ness; neither fear, nor anger, nor that which is some- 
times more troublesome than either, the consciousness of 
having been in the wrong. There is nothing, either orig- 
inating here, or now received here by the gentleman's shot. 
Nothing originating here, for I had not the slightest feeUng 
of unkindness towards the honorable member. Some pas- 
sages, it is true, had occurred since our acquaintance in this 
body, which I could have wished might have been other- 
wise; but I had used philosophy and forgotten them. I 
paid the honorable member the attention of listening with 
respect to his first speech ; and when he sat down, though 
surprised, and I must even say astonished, at some of his 
opinions, nothing was farther from my intention than to 
commence any personal warfare. Through the whole of 
the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, studiously 
and carefully, everything which I thought possible to be 
construed into disrespect. And, sir, while there is thus 
nothing originating here which I wished at any time or now 
wish to discharge, I must repeat also, that nothing has been 
received here which rankles, or in any way gives me annoy- 
ance. I will not accuse the honorable member of violating 
the rules of civilized war ; I will not say that he poisoned 
his arrows. But whether his shafts were or were not dipped 
in that which would have caused rankling if they had 
reached their destination, there was not, as it happened, 
quite strength enough in the bow to bring them to their 
mark. If he wishes now to gather up those shafts, he must 

136 Public Speaking 

look for them elsewhere ; they will not be found fixed and 
qiiivering in the object at which they were aimed. 

But the gentleman inquires why he was made the object 
of such a reply. Why was he singled out? If an attack 
has been made on the East, he, he assures us, did not begin 
it; it was made by the gentleman from Missouri. Sir, I 
answered the gentleman's speech because I happened to 
hear it; and because, also, I chose to give an answer to 
that speech, which, if unanswered, I thought most Ukely 
to produce injurious impressions. I did not stop to inquire 
who was the original drawer of the bill. I foimd a respon- 
sible indorser before me, and it was my purpose to hold him 
hable, and to bring him to his just responsibility, without 

By John Bright 

Omr opponents have charged us with being the promoters 
of a dangerous excitement. They have the effrontery to 
say that I am the friend of pubHc disorder. I am one of 
the people. Surely, if there be one thing in a free country 
more clear than another, it is, that any one of the people 
may speak openly to the people. If I speak to the people 
of their rights, and indicate to them the way to secure them, 

— if I speak of their danger to the monopolists of power, 

— am I not a wise counsellor, both to the people and to 
their rulers ? 

Suppose I stood at the foot of Vesuvius, or ^tna, and, 
seeing a hamlet or a homestead planted on its slope, I said 
to the dwellers in that hamlet, or in that homestead, "You 
see that vapor which ascends from the summit of the moun- 

Expression by Action 137 

tain. That vapor may become a dense, black smoke, that 
will obscure the sky. You see the trickling of lava from 
the crevices in the side of the mountain. That trickling of 
lava may become a river of fire. You hear that muttering 
in the bowels of the mountain. That muttering may be- 
come a bellowing thunder, the voice of violent convulsion, 
that may shake half a continent. You know that at your 
feet is the grave of great cities, for which there is no resur- 
rection, as histories tell us that dynasties and aristocracies 
have passed away, and their names have been known no 
more forever." 

If I say this to the dwellers upon the slope of the moun- 
tain, and if there comes hereafter a catastrophe which makes 
the world to shudder, am I responsible for that catastrophe ? 
I did not build the moimtain, or fill it with explosive ma- 
terials. I merely warned the men that were in danger. 
So, now, it is not I that am stimulating men to the violent 
pursmt of their acknowledged constitutional rights. 

The class which has hitherto ruled in this country has 
failed miserably. It revels in power and wealth, whilst at 
its feet, a terrible peril for its future, lies the multitude which 
it has neglected. If a class has failed, let us try the nation. 

That is our faith, that is our purpose, that is our cry. 
Let us try the nation. This it is which has called together 
these countless numbers of the people to demand a change ; 
and from these gatherings, sublime in their vastness and 
their resolution, I think I see, as it were, above the hilltops 
of time, the glimmerings of the dawn of a better and a 
nobler day for the country and the people that I love so 

138 Public Speaking 


From a lecture, " Toussaint L'Ouverture,'' with the permission of Lothrop, 
Lee and Shepard, Boston, publishers 

By Wendell PpiLUPS 

You remember when Bonaparte returned from Elba, 
and Louis XVIII sent an army against him, Bonaparte 
descended from his carriage, opened his coat, offering his 
breast to their muskets, and sajdng, "Frenchmen, it is the 
Emperor!" and they ranged themselves behind him, his 
soldiers shouting, "Vive I'Empereur !" That was in 1815. 
Twelve years before, Toussaint, finding that four of his 
regiments had deserted and gone to Leclerc, drew his sword, 
flung it on the grass, went across the field to them, folded 
his arms, and said, "Children, can you point a bayonet 
at me?" The blacks fell on their knees, praying his par- 
don. It was against such a man that Napoleon sent his 
army, giving to General Leclerc, the husband of his beauti- 
ful sister Pauline, thirty thousand of his best troops, with 
orders to reintroduce slavery. Among these soldiers came 
all of Toussaint's old mulatto rivals and foes. 

Holland lent sixty ships. England promised by special 
message to be neutral; and you know neutrality means 
sneering at freedom, and sending arms to tyrants. England 
promised neutrahty, and the black looked out on the whole 
civilized world marshaled against him. America, full of 
slaves, of course was hostile. Only the Yankee sold Tn'rn 
poor muskets at a very high price. Mounting his horse, 
and riding to the eastern end of the island, Samana, he 
looked out on a sight such as no native had ever seen before. 
Sixty ships of the line, crowded by the best soldiers of 
Europe, rounded the point. They were soldiers who had 

Expression by Action 139 

never yet met an equal, whose tread, like Caesar's, had 
shaken Europe, — soldiers who had scaled the Pyramids, 
and planted the French banners on the Walls of Rome. 
He looked a moment, counted the flotilla, let the reins fall 
on the neck of his horse, and turning to Christophe, ex- 
claimed: "All France is come to Hayti; they can only 
come to make us slaves ; and we are lost ! " He then recog- 
nized the only mistake of his life, — his confidence in Bona- 
parte, which had led him to disband his army. 

Returning to the hills, he issued the only proclamation 
which bears his name and breathes vengeance : " My chil- 
dren, France comes to make us slaves. God gave us lib- 
erty; France has no right to take it away. Burn the 
cities, destroy the harvests, tear up the roads with cannon, 
poison the wells, show the white man the hell he comes to 
make"; — and he was obeyed. When the great William 
of Orange saw Louis XIV cover Holland with troops, he 
said, "Break down the dikes, give Holland back to ocean" ; 
and Europe said, "Sublime!" When Alexander saw the 
armies of France descend upon Russia, he said, "Burn 
Moscow, starve back the invaders"; and Europe said, 
"Sublime!" This black saw all Europe marshaled to 
crush him, and gave to his people the same heroic example 
of defiance. 


From a speech in the United States Senate, March 24, 1898 

By John M. Thurston 

I coimseled silence and moderation from this floor when 
the passion of the nation seemed at white heat over the 
destruction of the Maine; but it seems to me the time for 

140 Public Speaking 

action has now come. No greater reason for it can exist 
to-morrow than exists to-day. Every hour's delay only 
adds another chapter to the awful story of misery and death. 
Only one power can intervene — the United States of 
America. Ours is the one great nation of the New World, 
the mother of American republics. She holds a position 
of trust and responsibility toward the peoples and affairs 
of the whole Western Hemisphere. It was her glorious ex- 
ample which inspired the patriots of Cuba to raise the flag 
of liberty in her eternal hills. We cannot refuse to accept 
this responsibility which the God of the universe has placed 
upon us as the one great power in the New World. We 
must act ! What shall our action be ? Some say, The 
acknowledgment of the belligerency of the revolutionists. 
The hour and the opportunity for that have passed away. 
Others say. Let us by resolution or official proclamation 
recognize the independence of the Cubans. It is too late 
for even such recognition to be of great avail. Others say. 
Annexation to the United States. God forbid ! I would 
oppose annexation with my latest breath. The people of 
Cuba are not our people ; they cannot assimilate with us ; 
and beyond all that, I am utterly and imalterably opposed 
to any departure from the declared policy of the fathers, 
which would start this republic for the first time upon a 
career of conquest and dominion utterly at variance with 
the avowed purposes and the manifest destiny of popular 

There is only one action possible, if any is taken ; that is, 
intervention for the independence of the island. We can- 
not intervene and save Cuba without the exercise of force, 
and force means war ; war means blood. The lowly Naza- 

Expression by Action 141 

rene on the shores of Galilee preached the divine doctrine 
of love, "Peace on earth, good will toward men." Not 
peace on earth at the expense of Hberty and humanity. 
Not good will toward men who despoil, enslave, degrade, 
and starve to death their feUow-men. I believe in the 
doctrine of Christ. I believe in the doctrine of peace ; but 
men must have hberty before there can come abiding peace. 
When has a battle for humanity and liberty ever been won 
except by force ? What barricade of wrong, injustice, and 
oppression has ever been carried except by force ? 

Force compelled the signature of unwilling royalty to the 
great Magna Charta ; force put hfe into the Declaration of 
Independence and made effective the Emancipation Procla- 
mation; force waved the flag of revolution over Bimker 
Hill and marked the snows of Valley Forge with blood- 
stained feet; force held the broken Hne of Shiloh, cUmbed 
the flame-swept hill at Chattanooga, and stormed the clouds 
on Lookout Heights; force marched with Sherman to the 
sea, rode with Sheridan in the Valley of the Shenandoah, 
and gave Grant victory at Appomattox; force saved the 
Union, kept the stars in the flag, made "niggers" men. 
The time for God's force has come again. Let the impas- 
sioned lips of American patriots once more take up the 
song : — 

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 
With a glory in His bosom that transfigured you and me. 
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, 
For God is marching on. 

Others may hesitate, others may procrastinate, others 
may plead for further diplomatic negotiation, which means 
delay, but for me, I am ready to act now, and for my action, 

142 Public Speaking 

I am ready to answer to my conscience, my country, and 
my God. 


From a speech to the United States Senate, February ii, 1847 

By Thomas Corwin 

The President has said he does not expect to hold Mexi- 
can territory by conquest. Why, then, conquer it ? Why 
waste thousands of lives and millions of money fortifying 
towns and creating governments, if, at the end of the war, 
you retire from the graves of your soldiers and the deso- 
lated coimtry of your foes, only to get money from Mexico 
for the expense of all your toil and sacrifice? Who ever 
heard, since Christianity was propagated among men, of 
a nation taxing its people, enHsting its young men, and 
marching off two thousand miles to fight a people merely 
to be paid for it in money? What is this but himting a 
market for blood, selling the lives of your young men, march- 
ing them in regiments to be slaughtered and paid for like 
oxen and brute beasts ? 

Sir, this is, when stripped naked, that atrocious idea first 
promiolgated in the President's message, and now advocated 
here, of fighting on till we can get our indemnity for the 
past as well as the present slaughter. We have chastised 
Mexico, and if it were worth while to do so, we have, I dare 
say, satisfied the world that we can fight. 

Sir, I have read in some account of your Battle of Mon- 
terey, of a lovely Mexican girl, who, with the benevolence 
of an angel in her bosom and the robust courage of a hero 
in her heart, was busily engaged during the bloody conflict, 
amid the crash of falling houses, the groans of the dying, 

Expression by Action 143 

and the wild shriek of battle, in carrying water to slake the 
burning thirst of the wounded of either host. While bend- 
ing over a woimded American soldier, a cannonball struck 
her and blew her to atoms ! Sir, I do not charge my brave, 
generous-hearted countrymen who fought that fight with 
this. No, no ! We who send them — we who know what 
scenes like this, which might send tears of sorrow "down 
Pluto's iron cheek," are the invariable, inevitable attend- 
ants on war — we are accountable for this. And this — 
this is the way we are to be made known to Europe. This 
— this is to be the undying renown of free, republican 
America ! " She has stormed a city — killed many of its 
inhabitants of both sexes — she has room " ! So it will 
read. Sir, if this were our only history, then may Gtod of 
His mercy grant that its volume may speedily come to a 

Why is it, sir, that we, the United States, a people of 
yesterday compared with the older nations of the world, 
should be waging war for territory — for "room?" Look 
at your country, extending from the Alleghany Mountains to 
the Pacific Ocean, capable itself of sustaining in comfort a 
larger population than will be in the whole Union for one 
hundred years to come. Over this vast expanse of terri- 
tory your popiilation is now so sparse that I believe we pro- 
vided, at the last session, a regiment of moimted men to 
guard the mail from the frontier of Missouri to the mouth 
of the Columbia; and yet you persist in the ridiculous 
assertion, "I want room." One would imagine, from the 
frequent reiteration of the complaint, that you had a burst- 
ing, teeming population, whose energy was paralyzed, whose 
enterprise was crushed, for want of space. Why should we 

144 Public Speaking 

be so weak or wicked as to offer this idle apology for ravag- 
ing a neighboring Republic ? It will impose on no one at 
home or abroad. 

Do we not know, Mr. President, that it is a law never to 
be repealed that falsehood shall be short-hved? Was it 
not ordained of old that truth only shall abide for ever? 
Whatever we may say to-day, or whatever we may write 
in our books, the stem tribunal of history will review it all, 
detect falsehood, and bring us to judgment before that pos- 
terity which shall bless or curse us, as we may act now, 
wisely or otherwise. We may hide in the grave (which 
awaits us all) in vain; we may hope there, Kke the foolish 
bird that hides its head in the sand, in the vain belief that 
its body is not seen; yet even there this preposterous ex- 
cuse of want of "room" shall be laid bare and the quick- 
coming future will decide that it was a hypocritical pretense 
under which we sought to conceal the avarice which 
prompted us to covet and to seize by force that which was 
not ours. 


From " Speeches and Lectures,'' with the permission of Lothrop, Lee and 
Shepard, Boston, publishers 

By Wendell Phillips 

Mr. Chairman : We have met for the freest discussion 
of these resolutions, and the events which gave rise to them. 
I hope I shall be permitted to express my surprise at the 
sentiments of the last speaker, — surprise not only at such 
sentiments from such a man, but at the applause they have 
received within these walls. A comparison has been drawn 
between the events of the Revolution and the tragedy at 

Expression by Action 145 

Alton. We have heard it asserted here, in Faneuil Hall, 
that Great Britain had a right to tax the Colonies, and we 
have heard the mob at Alton, the drunken murderers of 
Lovejoy, compared to those patriot fathers who threw the 
tea overboard ! Fellow citizens, is this Faneuil Hall doc- 
trine ? The mob at Alton were met to wrest from a citi- 
zen his just rights, — met to resist the laws. We have been 
told that our fathers did the same ; and the glorious mantle 
of Revolutionary precedent has been thrown over the mobs 
of our day. To make out their title to such defense, the 
gentleman says that the British ParHament had a right to 
tax these colonies. It is manifest that, without this, his 
parallel falls to the ground ; for Lovejoy had stationed him- 
self within constitutional bulwarks. He was not only de- 
fending the freedom of the press, but he was under his own 
roof, in arms with the sanction of the civil authority. The 
men who assailed him went against and over the laws. The 
mob, as the gentleman terms it, — mob, forsooth ! cer- 
tainly we sons of the tea-spillers are a marvelously patient 
generation ! — the "orderly mob" which assembled in the 
Old South to destroy the tea were met to resist, not the 
laws, but illegal exactions. Shame on the American who 
calls the tea tax and stamp act laws ! Our fathers resisted, 
not the King's prerogative, but the King's usurpation. To 
find any other account, you must read our Revolutionary 
history upside down. Oxa state archives are loaded with 
arguments of John Adams to prove the taxes laid by the 
British Parliament unconstitutional, — beyond its power. 
It was not till this was made out that the men of New 
England rushed to arms. The arguments of the Cotmcil 
Chamber and the House of Representatives preceded and 

146 Public Speaking 

sanctioned the contest. To draw the conduct of our an- 
cestors into a precedent for mobs, for a right to resist laws 
we ourselves have enacted, is an insult to their memory. 
The difference between the excitements of those days and 
our own, which the gentleman in kindness to the latter has 
overlooked, is simply this: the man of that day went for 
the right, as secured by the laws. They were the people 
rising to sustain the laws and constitution of the Province. 
The rioters of our day go for their own wills, right or wrong. 
Sir, when I heard the gentleman lay down principles which 
place the murderers of Alton side by side with Otis and 
Hancock, with Quincy and Adams, I thought those pic- 
tured lips [pointing to the portraits in the Hall] would have 
broken into voice to rebuke the recreant American, — the 
slanderer of the dead. The gentleman said that he should 
sink into insignificance if he dared to gainsay the principles 
of these resolutions. Sir, for the sentiments he has uttered, 
on soil consecrated by the prayers of Puritans and the blood 
of patriots, the earth should have yawned and swallowed 
him up. 

I am glad, Sir, to see this crowded house. It is good for 
us to be here. When Liberty is in danger, Faneuil Hall 
has the right, it is her duty, to strike the keynote for these 
United States. 



From " Hunting the Grizzly," with the permission of G. P. Putnam's 
Sons, New York and London, publishers 

By Theodore Roosevelt 

One of my valued friends in the mountains, and one of 
the best hunters with whom I ever traveled, was a man who 
had a peculiarly light-hearted way of looking at conven- 
tional social obligations. Though in some ways a true 
backwoods Donatello, he was a man of much shrewdness 
and of great courage and resolution. Moreover, he pos- 
sessed what only a few men do possess, the capacity to tell 
the truth. He saw facts as they were, and could tell them 
as they were, and he never told an untruth imless for very 
weighty reasons. He was preeminently a philosopher, of 
a happy, skeptical turn of mind. He had no prejudices. 

On one occasion when we were out together we killed a 
bear, and after skinning it, took a bath in a lake. I noticed 
he had a scar on the side of his foot, and asked him how he 
got it, to which he responded, with indifference : — 

"Oh, that? Why, a man shoo tin' at me to make me 
dance, that was all." 

I expressed some curiosity in the matter, and he went on : 

"Well, the way of it was this : It was when I was keeping 
a saloon in New Mexico, and there was a man there by the 
name of Fowler, and there was a reward on him of three 
thousand dollars — " 


148 Public Speaking 

"Put on him by the State?" 

"No, put on by his wife," said my friend; "and there 
was this — " 

"Hold on," I interrupted; "put on by his wife, did you 

"Yes, by his wife. Him and her had been keepin' a 
faro bank, you see, and they quarreled about it, so she just 
put a reward on him, and so — " 

"Excuse me," I said, "but do you mean to say that this 
reward was put on publicly ? " to which my friend answered 
with an air of gentlemanly boredom at being interrupted 
to gratify my thirst for irrelevant detail : — 

"Oh, no, not publicly. She just mentioned it to six or 
eight intimate personal friends." 

"Go on," I responded, somewhat overcome by this in- 
stance of the primitive simplicity with which New Mexican 
matrimonial disputes were managed, and he continued : — 

"WeU, two men come ridin' in to see me to borrow my 
guns. My gims was Colt's self-cockers. It was a new 
thing then, and they was the only ones in town. These 
come to me, and 'Simpson,' says they, 'we want to borrow 
your guns; we are goin' to kill Fowler.' 

"'Hold on for a moment,' said I, 'I am willin' to lend 
you them guns, but I ain't goin' to know what you'r' goin' 
to do with them, no, sir ; but of course you can have the 
gtms.'" Here my friend's face lightened pleasantly, and 
he continued : — 

"Well, you may easily believe I felt surprised next day 
when Fowler come ridin' in, and, says he, ' Simpson, here's 
your guns !* He had shot them two men ! 'Well, Fowler,' 
says I, 'if I had known them men was after you, I'd never 

Depicting Character 149 

have let them have the guns nohow,' says I. That wasn't 
true, for I did know it, but there was no cause to tell him 

I murmured my approval of such prudence, and Simpson 
continued, his eyes gradually brightening with the Hght of 
agreeable reminiscence : — 

"Well, they up and they took Fowler before the justice 
of peace. The justice of the peace was a Turk." 

"Now, Simpson, what do you mean by that?" I in- 

"Well, he come from Turkey," said Simpson, and I again 
sank back, wondering briefly what particular variety of 
Mediterranean outcast had drifted down to Mexico to be 
made a justice of the peace. Simpson laughed and con- 
tinued : " That Fowler was a funny fellow. The Turk, he 
committed Fowler, and Fowler, he riz up and knocked him 
down and tromped all over him and made him let him go ! " 

"That was an appeal to a higher law," I observed. 
Simpson assented cheerily, and continued : — 

"Well, that Turk, he got nervous for fear Fowler was 
goin' to kiU him, and so he comes to me and offers me 
twenty-five dollars a day to protect him from Fowler ; and 
I went to Fowler, and 'Fowler,' says I, 'that Turk's of- 
fered me twenty-five dollars a day to protect him from you. 
Now, I ain't goin' to get shot for no twenty-five dollars a 
day, and if you are goin' to kill the Turk, just say so and 
go and do it ; but if you ain't goin' to kill the Turk, there's 
no reason why I shouldn't earn that twenty-five dollars a 
day ! ' and Fowler, says he, ' I ain't goin' to touch the Turk ; 
you just go right ahead and protect him.'" 

So Simpson "protected" the Turk from the imaginary 

150 Public Speaking 

danger of Fowler, for about a week, at twenty-five dollars 
a day. 

Then one evening he happened to go out and meet Fowler, 
"and," said he, "the moment I saw him I know he felt 
mean, for he begun to shoot at my feet," which certainly did 
seem to offer presumptive evidence of meanness. Simpson 
continued : — 

"I didn't have no gun, so I just had to stand there and 
take it until something distracted his attention, and I went 
off home to get my gun and kill him, but I wanted to do it 
perfectly lawful ; so I went up to the mayor (he was playin' 
poker with one of the judges), and says I to him, 'Mr. 
Mayor,' says I, 'I am goin' to shoot Fowler.' And the 
mayor he riz out of his chair and he took me by the hand, 
and says he, 'Mr. Simpson, if you do I will stand by you' ; 
and the judge he says, 'I'll go on your bond.'" 

Fortified by this cordial approval of the executive and 
judicial branches of the government, Mr. Simpson started 
on his quest. Meanwhile, however, Fowler had cut up 
another prominent citizen, and they already had him in 
jail. The friends of law and order, feeling some httle dis- 
trust as to the permanency of their own zeal for righteous- 
ness, thought it best to settle the matter before there was 
time for cooling, and accordingly, headed by Simpson, the 
mayor, the judge, the Turk, and other prominent citizens 
of the town, they broke into the jail and hanged Fowler. 
The point in the hanging which especially tickled my friend's 
fancy as he lingered over the reminiscence was one that 
was rather too ghastly to appeal to our own sense of hu- 
mor. In the Turk's mind there still rankled the memory of 
Fowler's very improfessional conduct while figuring before 

Depicting Character 151 

him as a criminal. Said Simpson, with a merry twinkle 
of the eye: "Do you know, that Turk, he was a right 
fxmny fellow too after all. Just as the boys were going to 
string up Fowler, says he, 'Boys, stop; one moment, 
gentlemen, — Mr. Fowler, good-by,' and he blew a kiss to 


From "Departmental Ditties," with the permission of A. P. Watt and 
Son, London, and Doubleday, Page and Company, New York 

By Rudyaed Kipling 

You may talk o' gin and beer 

When you're quartered safe out 'ere. 
An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it ; 

But when it comes to slaughter 

You will do your work on water. 
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it. 

Now in Injia's simny cUme, 

Where I used to spend my time 
A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen, 

Of all them blackf aced crew 

The finest man I knew 
Was our regimental bhisti, Gimga Din. 

He was "Din! Din! Din! 
You limping lump o' brick-dust, Gimga Din ! 

Hi ! slippery hitherao ! 

Water, get it ! Panee lao ! * 
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din." 

The uniform 'e wore 
Was nothin' much before, 

1 Bring water swiftly. 

152 Public Speaking 

An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind, 

For a piece o' twisty rag 

An' a goatskin water-bag 
Was all the field-equipment 'e could find. 

When the sweatin' troop-train lay 

In a sidin' through the day, 
Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl, 

We shouted " Harry By ! " ^ 

Till our throats were bricky-dry, 
Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all. 

It was "Din! Din! Din! 

You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been ? 

You put some jxildee in it 

Or I'll marrow you this minute,^ 
If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din I " 

'E would dot an' carry one 

Till the longest day was done ; 
An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear. 

If we charged or broke or cut, 

You could bet your bloomin' nut, 
'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear. 

With 'is mussick ' on 'is back, 

'E would skip with our attack. 
An' watch us till the bugles made " Retire," 

An' for all 'is dirty 'ide 

'E was white, clear white, inside 
When 'e went to tend the wounded imder fire ! 

It was "Din! Din! Din!" 
With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green. 

1 Brother. « Hit you. s Water skin. 

Depicting Character 153 

When the cartridges ran out, 
You could hear the front-files shout, 
"Hi ! ammimition-mules an' Gunga Din !" 

I sha'n't forgit the night 

When I dropped be'ind the fight 
With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been. 

I was chokin' mad with thirst, 

An' the man that spied me first 
Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Giuiga Din. 

'E lifted up my 'ead. 

An' he plugged me where I bled, 
An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green : 

It was crawlin' and it stunk. 

But of all the drinks I've drxmk, 
I'm gratefullest to one from Gxmga Din. 

It was "Din! Din! Din!" 
'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen ; 

'E's chawin' up the groimd. 

An' 'e's kickin' all around : 
For Gawd's sake git the water, Gtmga Din ! " 

'E carried me away 

To where a dooU lay. 
An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar dean. 

'E put me safe inside. 

An' just before 'e died : 
"I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gimga Din. 

So I'U meet 'im later on 

At the place where 'e is gone — 
Where it's always double drill and no canteen ; 

'E'U be squattin' on the coals, 

154 Public Speaking 

Givin' drink to poor damned souls, 
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gimga Din ! 

Yes, Din ! Din ! Din ! 
You Lazarushian-leather Gimga Din ! 

Though I've belted you and flayed you, 

By the living Gawd that made you, 
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din ! 


From " The Pickwick Papers " 

By Charles Dickens 

Sergeant Buzfuz rose with aU the majesty and dignity 
which the grave nature of the proceedings demanded, and 
having whispered to Dodson, and conferred briefly with 
Fogg, pulled his gown over his shoulders, settled his wig, 
and addressed the jury. 

Sergeant Buzfuz began by saying that never, in the whole 
course of his professional experience, — never, from the 
very first moment of his applying himself to the study and 
practice of the law, had he approached a case with such a 
heavy sense of the responsibility imposed upon him, — a 
responsibility he could never have supported, were he not 
buoyed up and sustained by a conviction, so strong that it 
amounted to positive certainty, that the cause of truth and 
justice, or, in other words, the cause of his much-injured 
and most oppressed client, must prevail with the high- 
minded and intelligent dozen of men whom he now saw in 
that box before him. 

Coimsel always begin in this way, because it puts the 
jury on the best terms with themselves, and makes them 
think what sharp fellows they must be. A visible effect 

Depicting Character 155 

was produced immediately; several jurymen beginning to 
take voluminous notes. 

"The plaintiff is a widow; yes, gentlemen, a widow. 
The late Mr. Bardell, after enjoying, for many years, the 
esteem and confidence of his sovereign, as one of the guar- 
dians of his royal revenues, glided almost imperceptibly 
from the world, to seek elsewhere for that repose and peace 
which a custom-house can never afford." 

This was a pathetic description of the decease of Mr. 
BardeU, who had been knocked on the head with a quart- 
pot in a public-house cellar. 

" Of this man Pickwick I wiU say Kttle ; the subject pre- 
sents but few attractions ; and I, gentlemen, am not the 
man, nor are you, gentlemen, the men, to delight in the 
contemplation of revolting heartlessness and of systematic 

Here Mr. Pickwick, who had been writhing in silence, 
gave a violent start, as if some vague idea of assaulting 
Sergeant Buzfuz, in the august presence of justice and law, 
suggested itself to his mind. 

"I say systematic villainy, gentlemen," said Sergeant 
Buzfuz, looking through Mr. Pickwick, and talking at him, 
"and when I say systematic viUainy, let me tell the defend- 
ant, Pickwick, — if he be in court, as I am informed he is, 
— that it would have been more decent in him, more be- 
coming, in better judgment, and in better taste, if he had 
stopped away. 

"I shall show you, gentlemen, that for two years Pick- 
wick continued to reside without interruption or intermis- 
sion at Mrs. Bardell's house. I shall show you that, on 
many occasions, he gave halfpence, and on some occasions 

156 Public Speaking 

even sixpences, to her little boy ; and I shall prove to you, 
by a witness whose testimony it will be impossible for my 
learned friend to weaken or controvert, that on one occa- 
sion he patted the boy on the head, and, after inquiring 
whether he had won any alley tors or commoneys lately 
(both of which I understand to be a particular species of 
marbles much prized by the youth of this town), made use 
of this remarkable expression : 'How should you like to 
have another father ?' I shall prove to you, gentlemen, on 
the testimony of three of his own friends, — most unwilling 
witnesses, gentlemen, — most unwilling witnesses, — that 
on that morning he was discovered by them holding the 
plaintiff in his arms, and soothing her agitation by his ca- 
resses and endearments. 

"And now, gentlemen, but one word more. Two let- 
ters have passed between these parties, — letters which are 
admitted to be in the handwriting of the defendant. Let 
me read the first : — ' Garraway's, twelve o'clock. Dear 
Mrs. B. — Chops and Tomato sauce. Yours, Pickwick.' 
Gentlemen, what does this mean ? Chops ! Gracious 
heavens ! and Tomato sauce ! Gentlemen, is the happiness 
of a sensitive and confiding female to be trifled away by 
such shallow artifices as these ? The next has no date what- 
ever, which is in itself suspicious. 'Dear Mrs. B., I shall 
not be at home tiU to-morrow. Slow coach.' And then 
follows this very remarkable expression. 'Don't trouble 
yourself about the warming-pan.' Why, gentlemen, who 
does trouble himself about a warming-pan ? Why is Mrs. 
Bardell so earnestly entreated not to agitate herself about 
this warming-pan, unless it is, as I assert it to be, a mere 
cover for hidden fire, — a mere substitute for some endearing 

Depicting Character 157 

word or promise, agreeably to a preconcerted system of 
correspondence, artfully contrived by Pickwick with a view 
to his contemplated desertion, and which I am not in a 
condition to explain ? 

"Enough of this. My client's hopes and prospects are 
ruined. But Pickwick, gentlemen, — Pickwick, the ruth- 
less destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell 
Street, — Pickwick, who has choked up the well, and 
thrown ashes on the sward, — Pickwick, who comes before 
you to-day with his heartless Tomato sauce and warming- 
pans, — Pickwick still rears his head with imblushing 
effrontery, and gazes without a sigh on the ruin he has 
made. Damages, gentlemen, heavy damages, are the only 
punishment with which you can visit him, the only recom- 
pense you can award to my client. And for those damages 
she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right- 
feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathizing, a 
contemplative Jury of her civilized countrymen." 

By Maccabe 

Ladies and Gentlemen: I see so many foine-lookin' 
people sittin' before me that if you'll excuse me I'll be after 
takin' a seat meself . You don't know me, I'm thinking, as 
some of yees 'ud be noddin' to me afore this. I'm a walkin' 
pedestrian, a travelin' philosopher. Terry O'MuUigan's 
me name. I'm from Dublin, where many philosophers 
before me was raised and bred. Oh, philosophy is a foine 
study ! I don't know anything about it, but it's a foine 
study ! Before I kim over I attended an important meetin' 
of philosophers in Dublin, and the discussin' and talkin' 

158 Public Speaking 

you'd hear there about the world 'ud warm the very heart 
of Socrates or Aristotle himself. Well, there was a great 
many imminent and learned min there at the meetin', and 
I was there too, and while we was in the very thickest of a 
heated argument, one comes to me and says he, "Do you 
know what we're talkin' about?" "I do," says I, "but I 
don't understand yees." "Could ye explain the sun's mo- 
tion around the earth?" says he. "I could," says I, "but 
I'd not know covld you understand or not." "Well," says 
he, "we'll see," says he. Sure'n I didn't know anything, 
how to get out of it then, so I piled in, "for," says I to my- 
self, "never let on to any one that you don't know anything, 
but make them believe that you do know all about it." So 
says I to him, takin' up me shillalah this way (holding a very 
crooked stick perpendicular), "We'll take that for the 
straight line of the earth's equator" — how's that for 
gehography? (to the audience). Ah, that was straight 
till the other day I bent it in an argument. "Wery good," 
says he. "Well," says I, "now the sun rises in the east" 
(placing the disengaged hand at the eastern end of the 
stick). Well, he couldn't deny that. "And when he gets 
up he 

Darts his rosy beams 

Through the mornin' gleams." 

Do you moind the poetry there? (to the audience with a 
smile). "And he keeps on risin' and risin' till he reaches 
his meriden." "What's that?" says he. "His dinner- 
toime," says I; "sure'n that's my Latin for dinner-toime, 
and when he gets his dinner 

He sinks to rest 

Sehind the glorious hills of the west." 

Depicting Character 159 

Oh, begorra, there's more poetry ! I fail it creepin' out all 
over me. "There," says I, well satisfied with myself, 
"will that do for ye?" "You haven't got done with him 
yet," says he. "Done with him," says I, kinder mad hke ; 
"what more do you want me to do with him? Didn't I 
bring him from the east to the west ? What more do you 
want?" "Oh," says he, "you'll have to bring him back 
again to the east to rise next mornin'. " By Saint Patrick ! 
and wasn't I near betrayin' me ignorance, Sure'n I thought 
there was a large family of suns, and they rise one after the 
other. But I gathered meself quick, and, says I to him, 
"Well," says I, "I'm surprised you axed me that simple 
question. I thought any man 'ud know," says I, "when 
the sun sinks to rest in the west — when the sun — " says 
I. "You said that before," says he. "Well, I want to 
press it stronger upon you," says I. "When the sun sinks 
to rest in the east — no — west, why he — why he waits 
till it grows dark, and then he goes hack in the noight toimel" 

From " A Charity Dinner " 
By Litchfield Moseley 

"Milors and Gentlemans!" commences the Frenchman, 
elevating his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. "Mi- 
lors and Gentlemans — You excellent chairman, M. le 
Baron de Mount-Stuart, he have say to me, 'Make de 
toast.' Den I say to him dat I have no toast to make ; but 
he nudge my elbow ver soft, and say dat dere is von toast 
dat nobody but von Frenchman can make proper; and, 
derefore, wid your kind permission, I vill make de toast. 
'De brevete is de sole of de feet,' as you great philosophere. 

160 Public Speaking 

Dr. Johnson, do say, in dat amusing little vork of his, de 
Pronouncing Dictionnaire ; and, derefore, I vill not say 
ver moch to de point. Van I vas a boy, about so moch 
tall, and used for to promenade de streets of Marseilles et 
of Rouen, vid no feet to put onto my shoe, I nevare to have 
expose dat dis day vould to have arrive. I vas to begin de 
vorld as von gargon — or, vat you call in dis countrie, von 
vaitaire in a cafe — vere I vork ver hard, vid no habil- 
lemens at all to put onto myself, and ver little food to eat, 
excep' von old blue blouse vat vas give to me by de pro- 
prietaire, just for to keep myself fit to be showed at ; but, 
tank goodness, tings dey have change ver moch for me 
since dat time, and I have rose myself, seulement par 
mon industrie et perseverance. Ah ! mes amis ! ven I 
hear to myself de flowing speech, de oration magnifique 
of you Lor' Maire, Monsieur Gobbledown, I feel dat it is 
von great privilege for von Strange to sit at de same table, 
and to eat de same food, as dat grand, dat majestique man, 
who are de terreur of de voleurs and de brigands of de 
metropolis ; and who is also, I for to suppose, a halterman 
and de chef of you common scoimdrel. Milors and gen- 
tlemans, I feel dat I can perspire to no greatare honneur 
dan to be von common scoimdrelman myself ; but, helas ! 
dat plaisir are not for me, as I are not freeman of your great 
cite, not von hveryman servant of von of you compagnies 
joint-stock. But I must not forget de toast. Milors and 
Gentlemans ! De immortal Shakispeare he have write, 
'De ting of beauty are de joy for nevermore.' It is de 
ladies who are de toast. Vat is more entrancing dan de 
charmante smile, de soft voice, der vinking eye of de beauti- 
ful lady ! It is de ladies who do sweeten de cares of life. 

Depicting Character 161 

It is de ladies who are de guiding stars of our existence. It 
is de ladies who do cheer but not inebriate, and, derefore, 
vid all homage to de dear sex, de toast dat I have to propose 
is. 'De Ladies ! God bless dem all !" 


From " Tom Jones " 
By Henry Fielding 

In the first row of the first gallery did Mr. Jones, 
Mrs. Miller, her yotmgest daughter, and Partridge, take 
their places. Partridge immediately declared it was the 
finest place he had ever been in. When the first music was 
played, he said, "It was a wonder how so many fiddlers 
could play at one time, without putting one another 
out." While the fellow was lighting the upper candles, 
he cried out to Mrs. Miller, "Look, look, madam, the 
very picture of the man in the end of the common-prayer 
book before the gtmpowder-treason service." Nor could 
he help observing, with a sigh, when all the candles 
were lighted, "That here were candles enough burnt in 
one night, to keep an honest poor family for a whole 

As soon as the play, which was Hamlet, Prince of Den- 
mark, began, Partridge was all attention, nor did he break 
silence till the entrance of the ghost ; upon which he asked 
Jones, "What man that was in the strange dress; some- 
thing," said he, "like what I have seen in a picture. Sure 
it is not armor, is it?" Jones answered, "That is the 
ghost." To which Partridge repUed with a smile, "Per- 
suade me to that, sir, if you can. . . . No, no, sir, ghosts 
don't appear in such dresses as that, neither." In this 

162 Public Speaking 

mistake, which caused much laughter in the neighborhood 
of Partridge, he was suffered to continue, till the scene 
between the ghost and Hamlet, when Partridge gave that 
credit to Mr. Garrick, which he had denied to Jones, and 
fell into so violent a trembling, that his knees knocked 
against each other. Jones asked him what was the matter, 
and whether he was afraid of the warrior upon the stage ? 
"O la ! sir," said he, "I perceive now it is what you told 
me. . . . Nay, you may call me coward if you will; 
but if that little man there upon the stage is not frightened, 
I never saw any man frightened in my life. Ay, ay : go 
along with you : Ay, to be sure ! Who's fool then ? Will 
you ? Lud have mercy upon such f oolhardiness ! — 
Whatever happens, it is good enough for you. — Follow 
you ? I'd follow the devil as soon. Nay, perhaps it is the 
devil — for they say he can put on what likeness he pleases. 
— Oh ! here he is again. — No farther ! No, you have 
gone far enough already; farther than I'd have gone for 
all the king's dominions." Jones offered to speak, but 
Partridge cried, "Hush, hush ! dear sir, don't you hear him ? " 
And during the whole speech of the ghost, he sat with his 
eyes fixed partly on the ghost and partly on Hamlet, and 
with his mouth open; the same passions which succeeded 
each other in Hamlet, succeeding likewise in him. 

During the second act, Partridge made very few remarks. 
He greatly admired the fineness of the dresses ; nor could 
he help observing upon the king's countenance. "Well," 
said he, "how people may be deceived by faces ! Nulla 
fides fronti is, I find, a true saying. Who would think, by 
looking into the king's face, that he had ever committed 
a murder ?" He then inquired after the ghost ; but Jones, 

Depicting Character 163 

who intended he should be surprised, gave him no other 
satisfaction than "that he might possibly see him again 
soon, and in a flash of fire." 

Partridge sat in a fearful expectation of this ; andeiow, 
when the ghost made his next appearance. Partridge 
cried out, "There, sir, now; what say you now? is he 
frightened now or no ? As much frightened as you think 
me, and, to be sure, nobody can help some fears. I would 
not be in so bad a condition as what's his name, squire Ham- 
let, is there, for all the world. Bless me ! what's become of 
the spirit! As I am a living soul, I thought I saw him sink 
into the earth." "Indeed, you saw right," answered Jones, 
"Well, well," cries Partridge, " I know it is only a play : and 
besides, if there was anything in all this. Madam Miller would 
not laugh so ; for as to you, sir, you would not be afraid, I 
believe, if the devil was here ia person. — There, there — 
Aye, no wonder you are in such a passion; shake the vile 
wicked wretch to pieces. If she was my own mother, I 
would serve her so. To be sure all duty to a mother is 
forfeited by such wicked doings. — Aye, go about your busi- 
ness, I hate the sight of you." 

Little more worth remembering occurred during the play, 
at the end of which Jones asked him which of the players 
he had liked best? To this he answered, with some ap- 
pearance of indignation at the question, "The king, with- 
out doubt." "Indeed, Mr. Partridge," says Mrs. MiUer, 
"you are not of the same opinion with the town; for they 
are all agreed, that Hamlet is acted by the best player who 
ever was on the stage." "He the best player !" cries Par- 
tridge, with a contemptuous sneer, "why, I could act as 
weU as he myself. I am sure, if I had seen a ghost, I should 

164 Public Speaking 

have looked in the very same manner, and done just as ne 
did. And then, to be sure, in that scene, as you called it, 
between him and his mother, where you told me he acted 
so fine, why. Lord help me, any man, that is, any good man, 
that had such a mother, would have done exactly the same. 
I know you are only joking with me ; but indeed, madam, 
though I was never at a play in London, yet I have seen 
acting before in the country ; and the king for my money ; 
he speaks all his words distinctly, half as loud again as the 
other. — Anybody may see he is an actor." 

By Robert Burns 

Is there for honest poverty 

That hings his head, an' a' that ? 
The coward slave, we pass him by — 

We dare be poor for a' that. 
For a' that, an' a' that. 

Our toils obscure, an' a' that, 
The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 

The man's the gowd ^ for a' that ! 

What tho' on hamely ^ fare we dine, 
Wear hoddin ^ gray, an' a' that ; 

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine - 
A man's a man, for a' that. 

For a' that, an' a' that, 

Their tinsel show, an' a' that, 

' gold 2 fiomely, plain ' homespun 

Depicting Character 165 

The honest man, though e'er sae poor, 
Is king o' men for a' that! 

Ye see yon birkie,^ ca'd a lord, 

Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that ; 
Tho' himdreds worship at his word, 

He's but a coof ^ for a' that ; 
For a' that, an' a' that, 

His riband, star, an' a' that ; 
The man of independent mind, 

He looks an' laughs at a' that. 

A prince can mak a belted knight, 

A marquis, duke, an' a' that ; 
But an honest man's aboon^ his might — 

Gude faith, he maunna fa' * that ! 
For a' that, an' a' that. 

Their dignities, an' a' that. 
The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, 

Are higher ranks than a' that. 

Then let us pray that come it may. 

As come it will for a' that. 
That sense an' worth, o'er a' the earth, 

Shall bear the gree,^ an' a' that. 
For a' that, an' a' that. 

It's comin' yet, for a' that — 
That man to man, the warld o'er. 

Shall brothers be for a' that. 

' fellow ^ fool (pronoimce like German o, or oe) ' above 

^must not claim (to make the honest man) "prize 

166 Public Speaking 


From " Complete Works of Artemus Ward," with the permission of the 
G. W. Dillingham Company, New York, publishers 

By Chakles Farrar Brown (Artemus Ward) 

I don't expect to do great things here — but I have 
thought that if I could make money enough to buy me a 
passage to New Zealand I should feel that I had not lived 
in vain. I don't want to live in vain. I'd rather live in 
Texas — or here. 

If you should be dissatisfied with anything here to-night 
— I will admit you aU free in New Zealand — if you wUl 
come to me there for the orders. Any respectable cannibal 
will tell you where I Uve. This shows that I have a for- 
giving spirit. 

I really don't care for money. I only travel round to 
see the world and to exhibit my clothes. These clothes 
I have on have been a great success in America. 

How often do large fortunes ruin young men ! I should 
like to be ruined, but I can get on very well as I am. 

I am not an Artist. I don't paint myself — though 
perhaps if I were a middle-aged single lady I should — yet 
I have a passion for pictures. — I have had a great many pic- 
tures — photographs — taken of myself. Some of them are 
very pretty — rather sweet to look at for a short time — 
and as I said before, I like them. I've always loved pictures. 
I could draw on wood at a very tender age. When a 
mere child I once drew a small cartload of raw turnips over 
a wooden bridge. — The people of the village noticed me. 
I drew their attention. They said I had a future before 
me. Up to that time I had an idea it was behind me. 

Time passed on. It always does, by the way. You 

Depicting Character 167 

may possibly have noticed that Time passes on. — It is a 
kind of way Time has. 

I became a man. I haven't distinguished myself at all as 
an artist — but I have always been more or less mixed up 
with art. I have an uncle who takes photographs — and I 
have a servant who— takes anything he can get his hands on. 

When I was in Rome — Rome in New York State, I 
mean — a distinguished sculpist wanted to sculp me. But 
I said "No." I saw through the designing man. My 
model once in his hands — he would have flooded the mar- 
ket with my busts — and I couldn't stand it to see every- 
body going round with a bust of me. Everybody would 
want one of course — and wherever I should go I should 
meet the educated classes with my bust, taking it home to 
their families. This would be more than my modesty 
coiild stand — and I should have to return home — where 
my creditors are. 

I like art. I admire dramatic art — although I failed 
as an actor. 

It was in my schoolboy days that I failed as an actor. — 
The play was "The Ruins of Pompeii." — I played the 
ruins. It was not a very successful performance — but 
it was better than the "Burning Mountain." He was not 
good. He was a bad Vesuvius. 

The remembrance often makes me ask — "Where are 
the boys of my youth ?" I assiire you this is not a conim- 
drum. Some are amongst you here — some in America 
— some are in jail. 

Hence arises a most touching question — "Where are the 
girls of my youth ? " Some are married — some would like 
to be. 

168 Public Speaking 

Oh, my Maria ! Alas ! she married another. They 
frequently do. I hope she is happy — because I am. — 
Some people are not happy. I have noticed that. 

A gentleman friend of mine came to me one day with 
tears in his eyes. I said, "Why these weeps?" He said 
he had a mortgage on his farm' — and wanted to borrow 
$200. I lent him the money — and he went away. Some 
time afterward he returned with more tears. He said he 
must leave me forever. I ventured to remind him of the 
$200 he borrowed. He was much cut up. I thought I 
would not be hard upon him — so told him I woiild throw 
off $100. He brightened — shook my hand — and said, 

— " Old friend — I won't allow you to outdo me in liberality 

— I'U throw off the other himdred." 

I like Music. — I can't sing. As a singist I am not a 
success. I am saddest when I sing. So are those who 
hear me. They are sadder even than I am. 

I met a man in Oregon who hadn't any teeth — not a 
tooth in his head — yet that man could play on the bass 
drum better than any man I ever met. He kept a hotel. 
They have queer hotels in Oregon. I remember one where 
they gave me a bag of oats for a pillow — I had nightmares 
of course. In the morning the landlord said, — " How do 
you feel — old hoss — hay ? " — I told him I felt my oats. 

As a manager I was always rather more successful than as 
an actor. 

Some years ago I engaged a celebrated Living American 
Skeleton for a tour through Australia. He was the thinnest 
man I ever saw. He was a splendid skeleton. He didn't 
weigh anything scarcely — and I said to myself — the 
people of Australia will flock to see this tremendous cu- 

Depicting Character 169 

riosity. It is a long voyage — as you know — from New 
York to Melbourne — and to my utter surprise the skeleton 
had no sooner got out to sea than he commenced eating 
in the most horrible maimer. He had never been on the 
ocean before — and he said it agreed with him — I thought 
so ! — I never saw a man eat so much in my Hfe. Beef, 
mutton, pork — he swallowed them all Hke a shark — and 
between meals he was often discovered behind barrels 
eating hard-boiled eggs. The result was that, when we 
reached Melbourne, this infamous skeleton weighed sixty- 
four pounds more than I did ! 

I thought I was ruined — but I wasn't. I took him on 
to California — another very long sea voyage — and when I 
got him to San Francisco I exhibited him as a fat man. 

This story hasn't anything to do with my entertainment, 
I know — but one of the principal features of my enter- 
tainment is that it contains so many things that don't have 
anything to do with it. 


By permission of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin 
Company, authorized publishers of this author's work 

By John Hay 

Wall, no ! I can't tell whar he lives, 

Because he don't live, you see ; 

Leastways, he's got out of the habit 

Of hvin' hke you and me. 

Whar have you been for the last three year 

That you haven't heard folks tell 

How Jimmy Bludso passed in his checks 

The night of the " Prairie Belle " ? 

170 Public Speaking 

He weren't no saint, — them engineers 

Is all pretty much alike, — 

One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill 

And another one here, in Pike ; 

A keerless man in his talk was Jim, 

And an awkward hand in a row, 

But he never fl;mked, and he never lied, — 

I reckon he never knowed how. 

And this was all the religion he had, — 

To treat his engine well ; 

Never be passed on the river ; 

To mind the pilot's beU ; 

And if ever the " Prairie Belle " took fire, — 

A thousand times he swore. 

He'd hold her noezle agin the bank 

Till the last soul got ashore. 

All boats has their day on the Mississip, 

And her day come at last, — 

The " Movastar " was a better boat, 

But the "Belle" she wouldn't be passed. 

And so she come tearin' along that night — 

The oldest craft on the line — 

With a nigger squat on her safety valve. 

And her furnace crammed, rosin and pine. 

The fire bust out as she cleared the bar. 
And burnt a hole in the night, 
And quick as a flash she turned, and made 
For that wilier-bank on the right. 

Depicting Character 171 

There was riinnin' and cursin', but Jim yelled out, 

Over all the infernal roar, 

"I'll hold her nozzle agin the bank 

Till the last galoot's ashore." 

Through the hot, black breath of the bumin' boat 

Jim Bludso's voice was heard, 

And they aU had trust in his cussedness. 

And knowed he would keep his word. 

And, sure's you're born, they all got off 

Afore the smokestacks fell, — 

And Bludso's ghost went up alone 

In the smoke of the " Prairie BeUe." 

He weren't no saint, — but at jedgment 
I'd run my chance with Jim, 
'Longside of some pious gentlemen 
That wouldn't shake hands with him. 
He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing, — 
And he went for it thar and then ; 
And Christ ain't agoing to be too hard 
On a man that died for men. 


From " The Boy Orator of Zepata City " in " The Exiles and Other 
Stories." Copyrighted, 1894, Harper and Brothers. Reprinted with 

By Richard Harding Davis 

Abe Barrow had been closely associated with the early 
history of Zepata ; he had killed in his day several of the 
Zepata citizens. His fight with Thompson had been a fair 
fight — as those said who remembered it — and Thompson 

172 Public Speaking 

was a man they could well spare ; but the case against Bar- 
row had been prepared by the new and youthful district 
attorney, and the people were satisfied and grateful. 

Harry Harvey, "The Boy Orator of Zepata City," as 
he was called, turned slowly on his heels, and swept the court 
room carelessly with a glance of his clever black eyes. The 
moment was his. 

"This man," he said, and as he spoke even the wind in the 
corridors hushed for the moment, "is no part or parcel of 
Zepata city of to-day. He comes to us a reHc of the past — 
a past that was full of hardships and glorious efforts in the 
face of daily disappointments, embitterments and rebuffs. 
But the part this man played in that past lives only in the 
court records of that day. This man, Abe Barrow, enjoys, 
and has enjoyed, a reputation as a 'bad man,' a desperate 
and brutal ruffian. Free him to-day, and you set a premium 
on such reputations; acquit him of this crime, and you 
encourage others to like evil. Let him go, and he will walk 
the streets with a swagger, and boast that you were afraid 
to touch him — afraid, gentlemen — and children and 
women will point after him as the man who has sent nine 
others into eternity, and who yet walks the streets a free 
man. And he will become, in the eyes of the young and 
the weak, a hero and a god. 

"For the last ten years, your honor, this man, Abner 
Barrow, has been serving a term of imprisonment in the 
state penitentiary ; I ask you to send him back there again 
for the remainder of his hfe. Abe Barrow is out of date. 
This Rip Van Winkle of the past returns to find a city where 
he left a prairie town ; a bank where he spun his roulette- 
wheel; this magnificent courthouse instead of a vigilance 

Depicting Character 173 

committee ! He is there, in the prisoner's pen, a convicted 
murderer and an unconvicted assassin, the last of his race, — 
the bullies and bad men of the border, — a thing to be for- 
gotten and put away forever from the sight of men. And I 
ask you, gentlemen, to put him away where he will not hear 
the voice of man nor children's laughter, nor see a woman's 
smile. Bury him with the bitter past, with the lawlessness 
that has gone — that has gone, thank God — and which 
must not return." 

The district attorney sat down suddenly, and was con- 
scious of nothing until the foreman pronounced the prisoner 
at the bar guilty of murder in the second degree. 

Judge Truax leaned across his desk and said, simply, that 
it lay in his power to sentence the prisoner to not less than 
two years' confinement in the state penitentiary, or for the 
remainder of his life. 

"Before I deHver sentence on you, Abner Barrow," he 
said with an old man's kind severity, "is there anything 
you have to say on your own behalf ? " 

Barrow's face was white with the prison tan, and pinched 
and hollow-eyed and worn. When he spoke his voice had 
the huskiness which comes from non-use, and cracked and 
broke like a child's. 

"I don't know, Judge," he said, "that I have anything to 
say in my own behalf. I guess what the gentleman said 
about me is all there is to say. I am a back number, I am 
out of date ; I was a loafer and a blackguard. He told you 
I had no part or parcel in this city, or in this world ; that I 
belonged to the past ; that I ought to be dead. Now that's 
not so. I have just one thing that belongs to this city, and 
to this world — and to me ; one thing that I couldn't take 

174 Public Speaking 

to jail with me, and I'll have to leave behind me when I 
go back to it. I mean my wife. You, sir, remember her, 
sir, when I married her twelve years ago. She gave up 
everything a woman ought to have, to come to me. She 
thought she was going to be happy with me ; that's why she 
come, I guess. Maybe she was happy for about two weeks. 
After that first two weeks her Ufe, sir, was a hell, and I made 
it a hell. Respectable women wouldn't speak to her because 
she was my wife — and she had no children. That was her 
life. She lived alone over the dance-hall, and sometimes 
when I was drunk — I beat her. 

"At the end of two years I killed Welsh, and they sent me 
to the pen for ten years, and she was free. She could have 
gone back to her folks and got a divorce if she'd wanted to, 
and never seen me again. It was an escape most women'd 
gone down on their knees and thanked their Maker for. 

"But what did this woman do — my wife, the woman 
I misused and beat and dragged down in the mud with me ? 
She was too mighty proud to go back to her people, or to the 
friends who shook her when she was in trouble; and she 
sold out the place, and bought a ranch with the money, and 
worked it by herself, worked it day and night, tmtil in ten 
years she had made herself an old woman, as you see she is 

"And for what? To get me free again; to bring me 
things to eat in jail, and picture papers, and tobacco — 
when she was living on bacon and potatoes, and drinking 
alkali water — working to pay for a lawyer to fight for me — 
to pay for the best lawyer. 

"And what I want to ask of you, sir, is to let me have two 
years out of jail to show her how I feel about it. It's all 

Depicting Character 175 

I've thought of when I was in jail, to be able to see her sitting 
in her own kitchen with her hands folded, and me working 
and sweating in the fields for her, working till every bone 
ached, trying to make it up to her. 

"And I can't, I can't ! It's too late! It's too late! 
Don't send me back for Ufe! Give me a few years to work 
for her — to show her what I feel here, what I never felt for 
her before. Look at her, gentlemen, look how worn she is, 
and poorly, and look at her hands, and you men must feel 
how I feel — I don't ask you for myself. I don't want to 
go free on my own account. My God ! Judge, don't bury 
me alive, as that man asked you to. Give me this last 
chance. Let me prove that what I'm saying is true." 

Judge Truax looked at the papers on his desk for some 
seconds, and raised his head, coughing as he did so. 

"It lies — it Ues at the discretion of this Court to sen- 
tence the prisoner to a term of imprisonment of two years, 
or for an indefinite period, or for life. Owing to — on 
account of certain circumstances which were — have 
arisen — this sentence is suspended. This Court stands 





From an address by the President to the students of Harvard University, 
at the announcement of Academic Distinctions, 1909 

By Abbott Laweence Lowell 

Tms meeting is held not merely to honor the men who 
have won prizes, attained high rank, or achieved distinction 
in studies. In a larger sense it is a tribute paid by the 
University to the ideals of scholarship. It is a public con- 
fession of faith in the aims for which the University was 
established. We may, therefore, not inappropriately con- 
sider here the nature and significance of scholarship. 

Without attempting an exhaustive catalogue of the bene- 
fits of education, we may note three distinct objects of 
college study. The first is the development of the mental 
powers with a view to their use in any subsequent career. 
In its broadest sense this may be called training for citizen- 
ship, for we must remember that good citizenship does not 
consist exclusively in rendering public service in poHtical 
and philanthropic matters. It includes also conducting 
an industrial or professional career so as not to leave the 
public welfare out of sight. 

Popular government is exacting. It implies that in 
some form every man shall voluntarily consecrate a part of 
his time and force to the state, and the better the citizen, 


The Speech of Formal Occasion 177 

the greater the effort he will make. On the function of 
colleges in fitting men for citizenship and for active work, 
much emphasis has been laid of late. Yet it is not the only 
aim of college studies. Another object is cultivation of 
the mind, refinement of taste, a development of the qualities 
that distinguish the civiHzed man from the barbarian. 
Nor does the value of these things lie in personal satisfac- 
tion alone. There is a culture that is selfish and exclusive, 
that is self-centered and conceited. The intellectual snob 
is quite as repeUant as any other. But this is true of the 
moral distortion of all good quaHties. The culture that 
narrows the sympathies, instead of enlarging them, has 
surely missed the object that should give its chief worth 
and dignity. The ciilture that reveals beauty in all its 
forms, that refines the sensibihties, and expands the mental 
horizon, that, without a sense of superiority, desires to 
share these things with others, and makes the fives of all 
men better worth hving, is Uke the glow of fire in a cold 
room. It is a form of social service of a high order. 

A third benefit of college education is the contact it 
affords with the work of creative imagination. The high- 
est type of scholar is the creative scholar, just as the highest 
type of citizen is the statesman. The greatest figures in 
history, as almost every one wiU admit, are the thinkers 
artd the rulers of men. People will always differ in the rela- 
tive value they ascribe to these two supreme forms of 
human power. But if one may indulge in apocalyptic 
visions, I should prefer in another world to be worthy of the 
friendship of Aristotle rather than of Alexander, of Shake- 
speare or Newton than of Napoleon or Frederick the Great. 

When I spoke of the benefit of college life in training for 

178 Public Speaking 

citizenship, and in imparting culture, I was obviously deal- 
ing with things which lie within the reach of every student ; 
but in speaking of creative scholarship you may think that 
I am appealing only to the few men who have the rare gift 
of creative genius. But happily the progress of the world 
is not in the exclusive custody of the occasional men of 
genius. Great originality is, indeed, rare ; but on a smaller 
scale it is not tmcommon, and the same principles apply to 
the production of all creative work. The great scholar and 
the lesser intellectual lights differ in brilliancy, but the same 
process must, be followed to bring them to their highest 
splendor. Nor is it the genius alone, or even the man of 
talent, who can enjoy and aid productive thought. It is 
not given to all men to possess creative scholarship them- 
selves; but most men by following its footsteps can learn 
to respect it and feel its charm; and for any man who passes 
through college without doing so, college education has been 
in one of its most vital elements a failure. If he has not 
recognized the glowing imagination, the lofty ideals, the 
patience and the modesty, that characterize the true scholar, 
his time here has been spent, not perhaps without profit, 
but without inspiration. 

All productive work is largely dependent upon apprecia- 
tion by the community. The great painters of Italy would 
have been sterile had not the citizens of Florence been eager 
to carry Cimabue's masterpiece in triumph through the 
streets. Kant would never have written among a people who 
despised philosophy; and the discoveries of our own day 
would have been impossible in an imscientific age. Every 
man who has learned to respect creative scholarship can 
enter into its spirit, and by respecting it he helps to foster it. 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 179 


From " Girls and Education," a commencement address, Bryn Mawr 
College, 191 1, by permission of, and by special arrangement with, 
Houghton MiflSin Company, authorized publishers of this author's . 

By Le Baron Russell Briggs 

One of the best gifts that a college can bestow is the power 
of taking a new point of view through putting ourselves into 
another's place. To many students this comes hard, but 
come it must, as they hope to be saved. 

To the American world the name of Charles Eliot Norton 
stands for all that is fastidious, even for what is over- 
fastidious; but Charles Eliot Norton's collection of verse 
and prose called "The Heart of Oak Books" shows a catho- 
licity which few of his critics could approach, a refined 
literary hospitality not less noteworthy than the refined 
himian hospitahty of his Christmas Eve at Shady Hill. 
As an old man this interpreter of Dante saw and hailed with 
delight the genius of Mr. Kipling. If you leave college 
without catholicity of taste, something is wrong either with 
the college or with you. 

As in literature, so in life. The greatest teachers — even 

Christ himself — have taught nothing greater than the 

power of seeing with the eyes of another soul. " Browning," 

said a woman who loves poetry, "seems to me not so much 

man as God." For Browning, beyond all men in the past 

century, beyond nearly all men of all time, could throw 

himself into the person of another. 

" God be thanked, the meanest of his creatures 
Boasts two soul-sides, one to face the world with. 
One to show a woman when he loves her,'' 

said this same great poet, writing to his wife. But Brown- 
ing has as many soul-sides as humanity. Hence it has been 

180 Public Speaking 

truly called a new life, like conversion, or marriage, or the 
mystery of a great sorrow, — a change and a bracing change 
in our outlook on the whole world, to discover Browning. 
The college should be our Browning, revealing the motive 
power of every Hfe, the poetry of good and bad. It is only 
the "little folk of Httle soul" who come out of college as the 
initiated members of an exclusive set. Justify yourself 
and your college years by your catholic democracy. 

It is the duty of the college not to train only, but to 
inspire ; to inspire not to learning only, but to a disciplined 
appreciation of the best in literature, in art, and in Hfe, to a 
catholic taste, to a universal sympathy. It is the duty of 
the student to take the inspiration, to be not disobedient to 
the heavenly vision, but to justify four years of dehght, by 
scholarship at once accurate and sympathetic, by a finer 
culture, by a leadership without self-seeking or pride, by a 
whole-souled denlocracy. How simple and how old it all 
is ! Yet it is not so simple that any one man or woman has 
done it to perfection; nor so old that any one part of it 
fails to offer fresh problems and fresh stimulus to the most 
ambitious of you all. 

Nothing is harder than to take freely and eagerly the 

best that is offered us, and never turn away to the pursuit of 

false gods. Now the best that is offered in college is the 

inspiration to learn, and having learned, to do : — 

"Friends of the great, the high, the perilous years, 
Upon the brink of mighty things we stand — 
Of golden harvests and of silver tears, 
And griefs and pleasures that like grains of sand 
Gleam in the hourglass, 3deld their place and die." 

So said the college poet. 

"Art without an ideal," said a great woman, "is neither 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 181 

nature nor art. The question involves the whole difference 
between Phidias and Mme. Tussaud." Let us never forget 
that the chief business of college teachers and college taught 
is the giving and receiving of ideals, and that the ideal is a 
burning and a shining light, not now only, or now and a 
year or two more, but for all time. What else is the patriot's 
love of country, the philosopher's love of truth, the poet's 
love of beauty, the teacher's love of learning, the good man's 
love of an honest life, than keeping the ideal, not merely 
to look at, but to see by ? In its light, and only in its Kght, 
the greatest things are done. Thus the ideal is not merely 
the most beautiful thing in the world; it is the source of all 
high efficiency. In every change, in every Joy or sorrow 
that the coming years may bring, do you who graduate 
to-day remember that nothing is so practical as a noble 
ideal steadily and bravely pursued, and that now, as of old, 
it is the wise men who see and follow the guiding star. 


From " After-Dinner and Other Speeches," with the permission of the author 

By John D. Long 

In memory of the dead, in honor of the living, for inspi- 
ration to our children, we gather to-day to deck the graves 
of our patriots with flowers, to pledge commonwealth and 
town and citizen to fresh recognition of the surviving sol- 
dier, and to picture yet again the romance, the reality, the 
glory, the sacrifice of his service. As if it were but yes- 
terday, you recall him. He had but turned twenty. The 
exquisite tint of youthful health was in his cheek. His pure 
heart shone from frank, outspeaking eyes. His fair hair 
clustered from beneath his cap. He had pulled a stout oar 

182 Public Speaking 

in the college race, or walked the most graceful athlete on 
the village green. He had just entered on the vocation of 
his life. The doorway of his home at this season of the 
year was brilhant in the dewy morn with the clambering vine 
and fragrant flower, as in and out he went, the beloved of 
mother and sisters, and the ideal of a New England youth : — 

"In face and shoulders like a god he was ; 
For o'er him had the goddess breathed the charm 
Of youthful locks, the ruddy glow of youth, 
A generous gladness in his eyes : such grace 
As carver's hand to ivory gives, or when 
Silver or Parian stone in yellow gold 
Is set." 

And when the drum beat, when the first martyr's blood 
sprinkled the stones of Baltimore, he took his place in the 
ranks and went forward. You remember his ingenuous 
and glowing letters to his mother, written as if his pen were 
dipped in his very heart. How novel seemed to him the 
routine of service, the hfe of camp and march ! How eager 
the wish to meet the enemy and strike his first blow for the 
good cause ! What pride at the promotion that came and 
put its chevron on his arm or its strap upon his shoulder ! 

They took him prisoner. He wasted in Libby and grew 
gaunt and haggard with the horror of his sufferings and with 
pity for the greater horror of the sufferings of his comrades 
who fainted and died at his side. He tunneled the earth and 
escaped. Hungry and weak, in terror of recapture, he fol- 
lowed by night the pathway of the railroad. He slept in 
thickets and sank in swamps. He saw the glitter of horse- 
men who pursued him. He knew the bloodhound was on 
his track. He reached the line ; and, with his hand grasp- 
ing at freedom, they caught and took him back to his cap- 

The Speecli of Formal Occasion 183 

tivity. He was exchanged at last; and you remember, 
when he came home on a short furlough, how manly and 
war-worn he had jgrown. But he soon returned to the ranks 
and to the welcome of his comrades. They recall him now 
alike with tears and pride. In the rifle pits around Peters- 
burg you heard his steady voice and firm command. Some 
one who saw him then fancied that he seemed that day like 
one who forefelt the end. But there was no flinching as 
he charged. He had just turned to give a cheer when the 
fatal ball struck him. There was a convulsion of the up- 
ward hand. His eyes, pleading and loyal, turned their 
last glance to the flag. His Ups parted. He fell dead, and 
at nightfall lay with his face to the stars. Home they 
brought him, fairer than Adonis over whom the goddess of 
beauty wept. They buried him in the village churchyard 
under the green turf. Year by year his comrades and his 
kin, nearer than comrades, scatter his grave with flowers. 
Do you ask who he was ? He was in every regiment and 
every company. He went out from every Massachusetts 
village. He sleeps in every Massachusetts burying ground. 
Recall romance, recite the names of heroes of legend and 
song, but there is none that is his peer. 

WILLIAM Mckinley 

From an address in the United States Senate 
By John Hay 

For the third time the Congress of the United States are 
assembled to commemorate the life and the death of a 
President slain by the hand of an assassin. The attention 
of the future historian will be attracted to the features 
which reappear with startling sameness in all three of these 

184 Public Speaking 

awful crimes : the uselessness, the utter lack of consequence 
of the act ; the obscurity, the insignificance of the criminal ; 
the blamelessness — so far as in our sphere of existence the 
best of men may be held blameless — of the victim. Not 
one of our murdered Presidents had an enemy in the world ; 
they were all of such preeminent purity of life that no pre- 
text could be given for the attack of passional crime ; they 
were all men of democratic instincts, who could never have 
offended the most jealous advocates of equality ; they were 
of kindly and generous nature, to whom wrong or injustice 
was impossible ; of moderate fortune, whose slender means 
nobody could envy. They were men of austere virtue, of 
tender heart, of eminent abilities, which they had devoted 
with single minds to the good of the Repubhc. If ever 
men walked before God and man without blame, it was 
these three rulers of our people. The only temptation to 
attack their lives offered was their gentle radiance — to 
eyes hating the light that was offense enough. 

The obvious elements which enter into the fame of a 
public man are few and by no means recondite. The man 
who fills a great station in a period of change, who leads his 
country successfully through a time of crisis ; who, by his 
power of persuading and controlUng others, has been able 
to command the best thought of his age, so as to leave his 
country in a moral or material condition in advance of 
where he found it, — such a man's position in history is se- 
cure. If, in addition to this, his written or spoken words 
possess the subtle qualities which carry them far and lodge 
them in men's hearts ; and, more than all, if his utterances 
and actions, while informed with a lofty morality, are yet 
tinged with the glow of human sympathy, — the fame of such 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 185 

a man will shine like a beacon through the mists of ages — 
an object of reverence, of imitation, and of love. It should 
be to us an occasion of solemn pride that in the three great 
crises of our history such a man was not denied us. The 
moral value to a nation of a renown such as Washington's 
and Lincoln's and McKinley's is beyond all computation. 
No loftier ideal can be held up to the emulation of ingenuous 
youth. With such examples we cannot be wholly ignoble. 
Grateful as we may be for what they did, let us be still more 
grateful for what they were. While our daily being, our 
public policies, still feel the influence of their work, let us 
pray that in our spirits their lives may be voluble, calling 
us upward and onward. 

There is not one of us but feels prouder of his native land 
because the august figure of Washington presided over its 
beginnings; no one but vows it a tenderer love because 
Lincoln poured out his blood for it ; no one but must feel 
his devotion for his country renewed and kindled when he 
remembers how McKinley loved, revered, and served it, 
showed in his life how a citizen should live, and in his last 
hour taught us how a gentleman could die. 


From an address at the unveiling of a statue of General Lee, at Washington 
and Lee University, 1883 

By John W. Daniel 

Mounted in the field and at the head of his troops, a 
glimpse of Lee was an inspiration. His figure was as dis- 
tinctive as that of Napoleon. The black slouch hat, the 
cavalry boots, the dark cape, the plain gray coat without 
an ornament but the three stars on the collar, the calm, 

186 Public Speaking 

victorious face, the splendid, manly figure on the gray war 
horse, — he looked every inch the true knight — the grand, 
invincible champion of a great principle. 

The men who wrested victory from his little band stood 
wonder-stricken and abashed when they saw how few were 
those who dared oppose them, and generous admiration 
burst into spontaneous tribute to the splendid leader who 
bore defeat with the quiet resignation of a hero. The men 
who fought under him never revered or loved him more than 
on the day he sheathed his sword. Had he but said the 
word, they would have died for honor. It was because he 
said the word that they resolved to live for duty. 

Plato congratulated himself, first, that he was born a 
man ; second, that he had the happiness of being a Greek ; 
and third, that he was a contemporary of Sophocles. And 
in this audience to-day, and here and there the wide world 
over, is many an one who wore the gray, who rejoices that 
he was bom a man to do a man's part for his suffering coim- 
try; that he had the glory of being a Confederate; and 
who feels a justly proud and glowing consciousness in his 
bosom when he says unto himself: "I was a follower of 
Robert E. Lee. I was a soldier in the army of Northern 
Virginia." , 

As president of Washington and Lee University, General 
Lee exhibited qualities not less worthy and heroic than 
those displayed on the broad and open theater of conflict 
when the eyes of nations watched his every action. In the 
quiet walks of academic life, far removed from "war or 
battle's sound," came into view the towering grandeur, the 
massive splendor, and the loving-kindness of his character. 
There he revealed in manifold gracious hospitalities, ten- 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 187 

der charities, and patient, worthy counsels, how deep and 
pure and inexhaustible were the fountains of his virtues. 
And loving hearts deHght to recall, as loving lips will ever 
delight to tell, the thousand httle things he did which 
sent forth Hnes of light to irradiate the gloom of the con- 
quered land and to lift up the hopes and cheer the works of 
his people. 

Come we then to-day in loyal love to sanctify our mem- 
ories, to purify our hopes, to make strong all good intent 
by communion with the spirit of him who, being dead, yet 
speaketh. Let us crown his tomb with the oak, the em- 
blem of his strength, and with the laurel, the emblem of his 
glory. And as we seem to gaze once more on him we loved 
and hailed as Chief, the tranquil face is clothed with heav- 
en's light, and the mute lips seem eloquent with the mes- 
sage that in life he spoke, "There is a true glory and a true 
honor ; the glory of duty done, the honor of the integrity 
of principle." 

By Henry Clay 

From 1806, the period of my entrance upon this noble 
theater, with short intervals, to the present time, I have 
been engaged in the public councils, at home or abroad. 
Of the services rendered during that long and arduous 
period of my life it does not become me to speak ; history, 
if she deign to notice me, and posterity, if the recollection 
of my humble actions shall be transmitted to posterity, are 
the best, the truest, and the most impartial judges. 

I have not escaped the fate of other pubhc men, nor failed 
to incur censure and detraction of the bitterest, most un- 

188 Public Speaking 

relenting, and most malignant character. But I have not 
meanwhile been unsustained. Everywhere throughout the 
extent of this great continent I have had cordial, warm- 
hearted, faithful, and devoted friends, who have known me, 
loved me, and appreciated my motives. 

In the course of a long and arduous public service, es- 
pecially during the last eleven years in which I have held a 
seat in the Senate, from the same ardor and enthusiasm of 
character, I have no doubt, in the heat of debate, and in an 
honest endeavor to maintain my opinions against adverse 
opinions ahke honestly entertained, as to the best course to 
be adopted for the public welfare, I may have often inad- 
vertently and unintentionally, in moments of excited de- 
bate, made use of language that has been offensive, and 
susceptible of injurious interpretation towards my brother 
Senators. If there be any here who retain wounded feelings 
of injury or dissatisfaction produced on such occasions, I 
beg to assure them that I now offer the most ample apology 
for any departure on my part from the estabhshed rules of 
parliamentary decorum and courtesy. On the other hand, 
I assure Senators,, one and all, without exception and with- 
out reserve, that I retire from this chamber without carry- 
ing with me a single feeling of resentment or dissatisfaction 
toward the Senate or any one of its members. 

In retiring, as I am about to do, forever, from the Senate, 
suffer me to express my heartfelt wishes that all the great 
and patriotic objects of the wise f ramers of our Constitution 
may be fulfilled ; that the high destiny designed for it may 
be fully answered ; and that its deliberations, now and here- 
after, may eventuate in securing the prosperity of our be- 
loved country, in maintaining its rights and honor abroad, 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 189 

and upholding its interests at home. I retire, I know, at a 
period of infinite distress and embarrassment. I wish I 
could take my leave of you under more favorable auspices ; 
but, without meaning at this time to say whether on any 
or on whom reproaches for the sad condition of the country 
should fall, I appeal to the Senate and to the world to bear 
testimony to my earnest and continued exertions to avert 
it, and to the truth that no blame can justly attach to me. 

May the most precious blessings of heaven rest upon the 
whole Senate and each member of it, and may the labors of 
every one redound to the benefit of the nation and the ad- 
vancement of his own fame and renown. And when you 
shall retire to the bosom of your constituents, may you re- 
ceive that most cheering and gratifying of all hximan re- 
wards — their cordial greeting of "Well done, good and 
faithful servant." 

And now, Mr. President, and Senators, I bid you all a 
long, a lasting, and a friendly farewell. 


From an address before both houses of Congress, February, 1882 

By James G. -Blaine 

Surely, if happiness can ever come from the honors or 
triumphs of this world, on that quiet July morning James 
A. Garfield may well have been a happy man. No fore- 
boding of evil haunted him, no slightest premonition of 
danger clouded his sky. His terrible fate was upon him in 
an instant. One moment he stood erect, strong, confident 
in the years stretching peacefully out before him. The next 
he lay wounded, bleeding, helpless, doomed to weary weeks 
of torture, to silence and the grave. 

190 Public Speaking 

Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For 
no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, 
by the red hand of Murder he was thrust from the full tide 
of this world's interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its 
victories, into the visible presence of death. And he did 
not quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which, 
stunned and dazed, he could give up hfe, hardly aware of 
its relinquishment, but through days of deadly languor, 
through weeks of agony that was not less agony because 
silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage he looked 
into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his an- 
guished eyes whose Ups may teU — what brilliant broken 
plans, what baflSed high ambitions, what simdering of 
strong, warm, manhood's friendships, what bitter rending 
of sweet household ties ! Behind him a proud, expectant 
nation ; a great host of sustaining friends ; a cherished and 
happy mother wearing the full, rich honors of her early toil 
and tears; the wife of his youth, whose whole hfe lay in 
his ; the little boys not yet emerged from childhood's day 
of frolic; the fair young daughter; the sturdy sons just 
springing into closest companionship, claiming every day, 
and every day rewarding, a father's love and care; and 
in his heart the eager, rejoicing power to meet all demand. 
Before him desolation and great darkness ! And his soul 
was not shaken. His countrymen were thrilled with in- 
stant, profound, and universal sympathy. Masterful in 
his mortal weakness, he became the center of a nation's love, 
enshrined in the prayers of a world. But all the love and 
all the sympathy could not share with him his suffering. 
He trod the winepress alone. With unfaltering front he 
faced death. With unfailing tenderness he took leave of 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 191 

life. Above the demoniac hiss of the assassin's bullet he 
heard the voice of God. With simple resignation he bowed 
to the divine decree. 

As the end drew near, his early craving for the sea re- 
turned. The stately mansion of power had been to him 
the wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken 
from its prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from 
its homelessness and its hopelessness. Gently, silently, 
the love of a great people bore the pale sufferer to the longed- 
for heahng of the sea, to Uve or to die, as God should will, 
within sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its mani- 
fold voices. With wan, fevered face tenderly hfted to the 
cooling breeze he looked out wistfully upon the ocean's 
changing wonders — on its far sails whitening in the morn- 
ing hght; on its restless waves rolling shoreward to break 
and die beneath the noonday sun; on the red clouds of 
evening arching low to the horizon ; on the serene and shin- 
ing pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes 
read a mystic meaning which only the rapt and parting 
soul may know. Let us beUeve that in the silence of the 
receding world he heard the great waves breaking on a 
farther shore, and felt already upon his wasted brow the 
breath of the eternal morning. 


Delivered from the steps of the Capitol at Washington, 1865 

By Abraham Lincoln 

Fellow Countrymen, — At this second appearing to 
take the oath of the Presidential ofl&ce there is less occasion 
for an extended address than there was at first. Then a 
statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued 

192 Public Speaking 

seemed very fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration 
of four years, during which pubhc declarations have been 
constantly called forth on every point and phase of the 
great contest which still absorbs the attention and en- 
grosses the energies of the nation, Uttle that is new could 
be presented. 

The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly de- 
pends, is as well known to the pubUc as to myself, and it is, 
I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. 
With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is 

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all 
thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil 
war. All dreaded it, all sought to avoid it. While the 
inaugural address was being delivered from this place, de- 
voted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent 
agents were in the city seeking to destroy it with war — 
seeking to dissolve the Union and divide the effects by nego- 
tiation. Both parties deprecated war, but one of them 
would make war rather than let the nation survive, and 
the other would accept war rather than let it perish, and 
the war came. One eighth of the whole population were 
colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, 
but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves con- 
stituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that 
this interest was somehow the cause of the war. To 
strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the 
object for which the insurgents would rend the Union by 
war, while the Government claimed no right to do more 
than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. 

Neither party expected for the war the magnitude or the 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 193 

duration which it has already attained. Neither antici- 
pated that the cause of the conflict might cease when, or 
even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked 
for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and 
astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the 
same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It 
may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just 
God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of 
other men's faces; but let us judge not, that we be not 
judged. The prayer of both could not be answered. That 
of neither has been answered ftdly. The Almighty has His 
own purposes. Woe imto the world because of offenses, 
for it must needs be that offenses come, but woe to that 
man by whom the offense cometh. If we shall suppose 
that American slavery is one of those offenses which, in 
the providence of God, must needs come, but which having 
continued through His appointed time. He now wills to 
remove, and that He gives to both North and South this 
terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offense 
came, shall we discern there any departure from those di- 
vine attributes which the believers in a Hving God always 
ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we 
pray, that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass 
away. Yet if God wills that it continue until all the wealth 
piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of tm- 
requited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood 
drawn with the lash shall be repaid by another drawn with 
the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it 
must be said, that the judgments of the Lord are true and 
righteous altogether. 
With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firm- 

194 Public Speaking 

ness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us 
finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, 
to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his 
widow and his orphans, to do all which may achieve and 
cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves and with 
all nations. 


From an address in the House of Commons, February, 1862 

By Benjamin Disraeli 

No person can be insensible to the fact that the House 
meets to-night under circumstances very much changed 
from those which have attended our assembling for many 
years. Of late years — indeed, for more than twenty 
years past — whatever may have been our personal rival- 
ries, and whatever our party strife, there was at least one 
sentiment in which we all coincided, and that was a senti- 
ment of admiring gratitude to that Throne whose wisdom 
and whose goodness had so often softened the acerbities of 
our free pubUc life, and had at all times so majestically 
represented the matured intelligence of an enlightened 

Sir, all that is changed. He is gone who was " the com- 
fort and support" of that Throne. It has been said that 
there is nothing which England so much appreciates as the 
fulfillment of duty. The Prince whom we have lost not only 
was eminent for the fulfillment of duty, but it was the 
fulfillment of the highest duty under the most difl&cult cir- 
cumstances. Prince Albert was the Consort of his Sover- 
eign — he was the father of one who might be his Sover- 
eign — he was the Prime Councillor of a realm, the political 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 195 

constitution of which did not even recognize his political 

Sir, it is sometimes deplored by those who admired and 
loved him that he was thwarted occasionally in his under- 
takings, and that he was not duly appreciated. But these 
are not circumstances for regret, but for congratulation. 
They prove the leading and original mind which has so long 
and so advantageously labored for this country. Had he 
not encountered these obstacles, had he not been subject 
to this occasional distrust and misconception, it would only 
have shown that he was a man of ordinary mold and tem- 
per. Those who improve must change, those who change 
must necessarily disturb and alarm men's prejudices. What 
he had to encounter was only a demonstration that he was a 
man superior to his age, and therefore admirably adapted 
for the work of progress. There is one other point, and 
one only, on which I will presume for a moment to dwell, 
and it is not for the sake of you. Sir, or those who now hear 
me, or of the generation to which we belong, but it is that 
those who come after us may not misunderstand the nature 
of this illustrious man. Prince Albert was not a mere pa- 
tron ; he was not one of those who by their gold or by their 
smiles reward excellence or stimulate exertion. His con- 
tributions to the cause of State were far more powerful and 
far more precious. He gave to it his thought, his time, his 
toil ; he gave to it his life. On both sides and in all parts 
of the House I see many gentlemen who occasionally have 
acted with the Prince at those coimcil boards where they 
conferred and consulted upon the great imdertakings.with 
which he was connected. I ask them, without fear of a 
denial, whether he was not the leading spirit, whether his 

196 Public Speaking 

was not the mind which foresaw the difficulty, his not the 
resources that supphed the remedy; whether his was not 
the courage which sustained them under apparently over- 
powering difficulties ; whether every one who worked with 
him did not feel that he was the real originator of those 
plans of improvement which they assisted in carrjdng into 
effect ? 

But what avail these words? This House to-night has 
been asked to condole with the Crown upon this great calam- 
ity. No easy office. To condole, in general, is the office 
of those who, without the pale of sorrow, stiU feel for the 
sorrowing. But in this instance the country is as heart- 
stricken as its Queen. Yet in the mutual sensibility of a 
Sovereign and a people there is something eimobling — 
something which elevates the spirit beyond the level of 
mere earthly sorrow. The counties, the cities, the cor- 
porations of the realm — those illustrious associations of 
learning and science and art and skill, of which he was the 
brightest ornament and the inspiring spirit, have bowed 
before the Throne. It does not become the ParHament of 
the country to be silent. The expression of our feelings 
may be late, but even in that lateness may be observed some 
propriety. To-night the two Houses sanction the expres- 
sion of the pubUc sorrow, and ratify, as it were, the record 
of a nation's woe. 


From an address in the House of Commons 

By Arthur J. Balfour 

I feel myself unequal even to dealing with what is, 
perhaps, more strictly germane to this address — I mean, 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 197 

Mr. Gladstone as a politician, as a Minister, as a leader 
of pubUc thought, as an eminent servant of the Queen; 
and if I venture to say anything, it is rather of Mr. 
Gladstone, the greatest member of the greatest deliberative 
assembly, which, so far, the world has seen. 

Sir, I think it is the language of sober and unexaggerated 
truth to say that there is no gift which would enable a man 
to move, to influence, to adorn an assembly like this that 
Mr. Gladstone did not possess in a superemitient degree. 
Debaters as ready there may have been, orators as finished. 
It may have been given to others to sway as skillfully this 
assembly, or to appeal with as much directness and force 
to the simpler instincts of the great masses in the country ; 
but, sir, it has been given to no man to combine all these 
great gifts as they were combined in the person of Mr. 
Gladstone. From the conversational discussion appro- 
priate to our work in committees, to the most sustained 
eloquence befitting some great argument, and some great 
historic occasion, every weapon of Parliamentary warfara 
was wielded by him with the success and ease of a perfect, 
absolute, and complete mastery. I would not venture my- 
self to pronounce an opinion as to whether he was most ex- 
cellent in the exposition of a somewhat complicated budget 
of finance or legislation, or whether he showed it most in 
the heat of extemporary debate. At least this we may say, 
that from the humbler arts of ridicule or invective to the 
subtlest dialectic, the most persuasive eloquence, the most 
cogent appeals to everything that was highest and best in 
the audience that he was addressing, every instrument 
which could find place in the armory of a member of this 
House, he had at his command without premeditation, 

198 Public Speaking 

without forethought, at the moment and in the form which 
appeared best suited to carry out his purpose. 

It may, perhaps, be asked whether I have nothing to say 
about Mr. Gladstone's place in history, about the judgment 
we ought to pass upon the great part which he has played 
in the history of his coimtry and the history of the world 
during the many years in which he held a foremost place in 
this assembly. These questions are legitimate questions. 
But they are not to be discussed by me to-day. Nor, in- 
deed, do I think that the final answer can be given to them 
— the final judgment pronounced — in the course of this 
generation. But one service he did — in my opinion in- 
calciilable — which is altogether apart from the judgment 
which we may be disposed to pass on the particular opinions, 
the particular views, or the particular lines of pohcy which 
Mr. Gladstone may from time to time have adopted. Sir, 
he added a dignity and he added a weight to the dehbera- 
tions of this House by his genius which I think it is impos- 
sible adequately to express. 

It is not enough, in my opinion, to keep up simply a level, 
though it be a high level, of probity and of patriotism. The 
mere virtue of civic honesty is not sufficient to preserve this 
assembly from the fate which has overcome so many other 
assembHes, the products of democratic forces. More than 
this is required, more than this was given to us by Mr. Glad- 
stone. Those who seek to raise in the public estimation 
the level of our proceedings will be the most ready to admit 
the infinite value of those services, and realize how much 
the pubhc prosperity is involved in the maintenance of the 
work of pubhc Ufe. Sir, that is a view which, it seems 
to me, places the services of Mr. Gladstone to this assem- 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 199 

bly, which he loved so well, and of which he was so great a 
member, in as clear a light and on as firm a basis as it is 
possible to place them. 


From an address in the House of Lords, May, 1898 

By Lord Rosebery 

My Lords, this is, as has been pointed out, an miique 
occasion. Mr. Gladstone always expressed a hope that 
there might be an interval left to him between the end of his 
political and of his natural Hfe. That period was given to 
him, for it is more than four years since he quitted the sphere 
of politics. Those four years have been with him a special 
preparation for his death, but have they not also been a 
preparation for his death with the nation at large ? Had 
he died in the plenitude of his power as Prime Minister, 
wovild it have been possible for a vigorous and convinced 
Opposition to allow to pass to him, without a word of dis- 
sent, the honors which are now universally conceded? 
Hushed for the moment are the voices of criticism ; hushed 
are the controversies in which he took part ; hushed for the 
moment is the very so\md of party conflict. I venture to 
think that this is a notable fact in our history. It was not 
so with the elder Pitt. It was not so with the younger Pitt. 
It was not so with the elder Pitt — in spite of his tragic 
end, of his unrivaled services, and of his enfeebled old age. 
It was not so with the yoimger Pitt — in spite of his long 
control of the country and his absolute and absorbed devo- 
tion to the State. I think that we should remember this 
as creditable not merely to the man, but to the nation. 

My Lords, there is one deeply melancholy feature of 

200 Public Speaking 

Mr. Gladstone's death — by far the most melancholy — to 
which I think none of my noble friends have referred. I 
think that all our thoughts must be turned, now that Mr. 
Gladstone is gone, to that solitary and pathetic figure who, 
for sixty years, shared aU the sorrows and all the joys of Mr. 
Gladstone's life; who received his every confidence and 
every aspiration ; who shared his triumphs with and cheered 
him under his defeats ; who, by her tender vigilance, I firmly 
believe, sustained and prolonged his years. I think that 
the occasion ought not to pass without letting Mrs. Glad- 
stone know that she is in all our thoughts to-day. And yet, 
my Lords — putting that one figure aside — to me, at any 
rate, this is not an occasion for absolute and entire and un- 
reserved lamentation. Were it, indeed, possible so to pro- 
tract the inexorable limits of human fife that we might have 
hoped that future years, and even future generations, might 
see Mr. Gladstone's face and hear his matchless voice, and 
receive the lessons of his imrivaled experience — we might, 
perhaps, grieve to-day as those who have no hope. But 
that is not the case. He had long exceeded the span of 
mortal Ufe ; and his latter months had been months of im- 
speakable pain and distress. He is now in that rest for 
which he sought and prayed, and which was to give him 
rehef from an existence which had become a burden to him. 
Surely this should not be an occasion entirely for grief; 
when a Hfe prolonged to such a limit, so fuU of honor, so 
crowned with glory, had come to its termination. The na- 
tion fives that produced him. The nation that produced 
him may yet produce others like him ; and, in the mean- 
tiine, it is rich in his memory, rich in his life, and rich, above 
all, in his arumating and inspiring example. Nor do I think 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 201 

that we should regard this heritage as limited to our own 
country or to our own race. It seems to me that, if we may 
judge from the papers of to-day, that it is shared by, that 
it is the possession of, all civilized mankind, and that genera- 
tions still to come, through many long years, will look for 
encouragement in labor, for fortitude in adversity, for 
the example of a sublime Christianity, with constant hope 
and constant encouragement, to the pure, the splendid, the 
dauntless figure of William Ewart Gladstone. 


From a centennial address at the United States Military Academy at West 
Point, with the author's permission 

By Horace Porter 

As we stand here to-day a hundred years of history pass 
in review before us. The present permanent Academy was 
founded in 1802. The class that year contained two cadets. 
During the ten years following the average number was 
twenty. We might say of the cadets of those days what 
Curran said of the books in his Hbrary — "not numerous, 
but select." 

And now a word to the Corps of Cadets, the departure 
of whose graduating class marks the close of the first cen- 
tury of the Academy's life. The boy is father to the man. 
The present is the mold in which the future is cast. The 
dominant characteristics of the cadet are seen in the future 
general. You have learned here how to command, and a 
stUl more useful lesson, how to obey. You have been taught 
obedience to the civil, as well as to the military, code, for 
in this land the military is always subordinate to the civil 
law. Not the least valuable part of your education is your 

202 Public Speaking 

service in the cadet ranks, performing the duties of a private 
soldier. That alone can acquaint you with the feelings and 
the capabilities of the soldiers you will command. It 
teaches you just how long a man can carry a musket in one 
position without overfatigue, just how hard it is to keep 
awake on sentry duty after an exhausting day's march. 
You will never forget this part of your training. When 
Marshal Lannes's grenadiers had been repulsed in an as- 
sault upon the walls of a fortified city, and hesitated to re- 
new the attack, Lannes seized a scaling ladder and, rushing 
forward, cried : "Before I was a marshal I was a grenadier, 
and I have not forgotten my training." Inspired by his ex- 
ample, the grenadiers carried the walls and captured every- 
thing before them. 

Courage is the soldier's cardinal virtue. You wiU seldom 
go amiss in following General Grant's instructions to his 
commanders, "When in doubt move to the front." 

A generous country has with fostering care equipped you 
for your career. It is entitled to your undivided allegiance. 
In closing, let me mention, by way of illustration, a most 
touching and instructive scene which I once witnessed at 
the annual meeting in the great hall of the Sorbonne in 
Paris for the purpose of awarding medals of honor to those 
who had performed acts of conspicuous bravery in saving 
human life at sea. A bright-eyed boy of scarcely fourteen 
summers was called to the platform. The story was re- 
counted of how one winter's night when a fierce tempest 
was raging on the rude Normandy coast, he saw signals of 
distress at sea and started with his father, the captain of a 
small vessel, and the mate to attempt a rescue. By dint 
of almost superhuman effort the crew of a sinking ship was 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 203 

safely taken aboard. A wave then washed the father from 
the deck. The boy plunged into the seething waves to 
save him, but the attempt was in vain, and the father per- 
ished. The lad struggled back to the vessel to find that 
the mate had also been washed overboard. Then lashing 
himself fast, he took the wheel and guided the boat, with 
its precious cargo of human souls, through the howling 
storm safely into port. The minister of public instruction, 
after paying a touching tribute to the boy's courage in a 
voice broken with emotion, pirmed the medal on his breast, 
placed in his hands a diploma of honor, and then, seizing 
the brave lad in his arms, imprinted a kiss on each cheek. 
For a moment the boy seemed dazed, not knowing which 
way to turn, as he stood there with the tears streaming 
down his bronzed cheeks while every one in that vast hall 
wept in sympathy. Suddenly his eyes turned toward his 
old peasant mother, she to whom he owed his birth and his 
training, as she sat at the back of the platform with bended 
form and wearing her widow's cap. He rushed to her, took 
the medal from his breast, and, casting it and his diploma 
into her lap, threw himseK on his knees at her feet. 

Men of West Point, in the honorable career which you 
have chosen, whatever laurels you may win, always be 
ready to lay them at the feet of your country to which you 
owe your birth and your education. 


From an address at Columbia University, June, 1909 

By Abbott La whence Lowell 

We have seen that the sifting out of young men capable 
of scholarship is receiving to-day less attention than it 

204 Public Speaking 

deserves ; and that this applies not only to recruiting future 
leaders of thought, but also to prevailing upon every young 
man to develop the intellectual powers he may possess. 
We have seen also that, while the graduate school can train 
scholars, it cannot create love of scholarship. That work 
must be done in undergraduate days. We have found 
reasons to believe that diuing the whole period of training, 
mental and physical, which reaches its culmination in 
college, competition is not only a proper but an essential 
factor; and we have observed the results that have been 
achieved at Oxford and Cambridge by its use. In this 
coimtry, on the other hand, several causes, foremost among 
them the elective system, have almost banished competition 
in scholarship from our colleges; while the inadequate 
character of our tests, and the corporate nature of self- 
interest in these latter times, raise serious difficulties in 
making it effective. 

Nevertheless, I have faith that these obstacles can be 
overcome, and that we can raise intellectual achievement in 
college to its rightful place in public estimation. We are 
told that it is idle to expect young men to do strenuous work 
before they feel the impending pressure of earning a live- 
lihood; that they naturally love ease and self-indulgence, 
and can be aroused from lethargy only by discipline, or by 
contact with the hard facts of a struggle with the world. 
If I believed that, I would not be president of a college for a 
moment. It is not true. A normal young man longs 
for nothing so much as to devote himsef to a cause that 
calls forth his enthusiasm, and the greater the sacrifice 
involved, the more eagerly will he grasp it. If we were at 
war and our students were told that two regiments were 

The Speech of Formal Occasion 205 

seeking recruits, one of which would be stationed at Fortress 
Monroe, well-housed and fed, living in luxury, without risk 
of death or wounds, while the other would go to the front, 
be starved and harassed by fatiguing marches under a 
broiling sun, amid pestilence, with men falling from its 
ranks killed or suffering mutilation, not a single man would 
volunteer for the first regiment, but the second would be 
quickly filled. Who is it that makes football a dangerous 
and painful sport ? Is it the faculty or the players them- 
selves ? 

A young man wants to test himself on every side, in 
strength, in quickness, in skill, in courage, in endurance; 
and he will go through much to prove his merit. He wants 
to test himself, provided he has faith that the test is true, 
and that the quality tried is one that makes for manliness ; 
otherwise he will have none of it. Now we have not con- 
vinced him that high scholarship is a manly thing worthy 
of his devotion, or that our examinations are faithful tests of 
intellectual power ; and in so far as we have failed in this 
we have come short of what we ought to do. Universities 
stand for the eternal worth of thought, for the preeminence 
of the prophet and the seer ; but instead of being thrilled 
by the eager search for truth, our classes too often sit listless 
on the bench. It is not because the lecturer is dull, but 
because the pupils do not prize the end enough to relish 
the drudgery required for skill in any great pursuit, or 
indeed in any sport. To make them see the greatness of 
that end, how fully it deserves the price that must be paid 
for it, how richly it rewards the man who may compete for 
it, we must leam — and herein Ues the secret — we must 
learn the precious art of touching their imagination. 



From a lecture, entitled " Masters of the Situation '■ 

By James T. Fields 

There was once a noble ship full of eager passengers, 
freighted with a rich cargo, steaming at full speed from Eng- 
land to America. Two thirds of a prosperous voyage thus 
far were over, as in our mess we were beginning to talk of 
home. Fore and aft the songs of good cheer and hearty 
merriment rose from deck to cabin. 

"As if the beauteous ship enjoyed the beauty of the sea, 
She Ufteth up her stately head, and saileth joyfully, 
A lovely path before her lies, a lovely path behind ; 
She sails amid the loveUness like a thing of heart and mind." 

Suddenly, a dense fog came, shrouding the horizon, but 
as this was a common occurrence in the latitude we were 
sailing, it was hardly mentioned in our talk that afternoon. 
There are always croakers on board ship, if the weather 
changes however slightly, but the Britannia was free, 
that voyage, of such unwelcome passengers. A happier 
company never sailed upon an autumn sea ! The story- 
tellers are busy with their yarns to audiences of deUghted 
listeners in sheltered places ; the ladies are lying about on 
couches, and shawls, reading or singing ; children in merry 
companies are taking hands and racing up and down the 
decks, — when a quick cry from the lookout, a rush of 


The Public Lecture 207 

officers and men, and we are grinding on a ledge of rocks off 
Cape Race ! One of those strong currents, always mysteri- 
ous, and sometimes impossible to foresee, had set us into 
shore out of our course, and the ship was bhndly beating on 
a dreary coast of sharp and craggy rocks. 

I heard the order given, "Every one on deck !" and knew 
what that meant — the masts were in danger of falling. 
Looking over the side, we saw bits of the keel, great pieces 
of plank, floating out into the deep water. A hundred 
palUd faces were huddled together near the stern of the ship 
where we were told to go and wait. I remember somebody 
said that a Uttle child, the playfellow of passengers and 
crew, could not be found, and that some of us started to 
find him; and that when we returned him to his mother 
she spake never a word, but seemed dumb with terror at 
the prospect of separation and shipwreck, and that other 
specter so ghastly when encountered at sea. 

Suddenly we heard a voice up in the fog in the direction 
of the wheelhouse, ringing like a clarion above the roar of 
the waves, and the clashing sounds on shipboard, and it had 
in it an assuring, not a fearful tone. As the orders came dis- 
tinctly and deliberately through the captain's trumpet, to 
"ship the cargo," to " back her," to "keep her steady," we 
felt somehow that the commander up there in the thick mist 
on the wheelhouse knew what he was about, and that 
through his skill and courage, by the blessing of heaven, we 
should all be rescued. The man who saved us so far as hu- 
man aid ever saves drowning mortals, was one fully com- 
petent to command a ship ; and when, after weary days of 
anxious suspense, the vessel leaking badly, and the fires in 
danger of being put out, we arrived safely in Halifax, old Mr. 

208 Public Speaking 

Cunard, agent of the line, on hearing from the mail officer 
that the steamer had struck on the rocks and had been saved 
only by the captain's presence of mind and courage, simply 
replied, "Just what might have been expected in such a dis- 
aster ; Captain Harrison is always master of the situation." 
Now, no man ever became master of the situation by 
accident or indolence. I believe with Shelley, that the 
Almighty has given men and women arms long enough to 
reach the stars if they will only put them out ! It was an 
admirable saying of the Duke of Wellington, "that no gen- 
eral ever blundered into a great victory." St. Hilaire said, 
"I ignore the existence of a bUnd chance, accident, and 
haphazard results." "He happened to succeed," is a fool- 
ish, unmeaning phrase. No man happens to succeed. 


Reprinted from " American Wit and Humor," copyrighted in " Modern 
Eloquence," Geo. L. Shuman and Company, Chicago, publishers 

By MmoT J. Savage 

Wit may take many forms, but it resides essentially in 
the thought or the imagination. In its highest forms it 
does not deal in things but with ideas. It is the shock of 
pleased surprise which results from the perception of un- 
expected hkeness between things that differ or of an un- 
expected diflference between things that are alike. Or it is 
where utterly incongruous things are apparently combined 
in the expression of one idea. Wit may be bitter or kindly 
or entirely neutral so far as the feelings are concerned. 
When extremes of feeling, one way or the other, are con- 
cerned, then it takes on other names which will be considered 
by themselves. 

The Public Lecture 209 

But not to stop any longer with definition, it is almost 
pure wit when some one said of an endless talker that he 
had "occasional brilliant flashes of silence." So of the 
saying of Mr. Henry Clapp. You know it is said of Shake- 
speare, "He is not for a day, but for all time." Speaking 
of the bore who calls when you are busy and never goes, Mr. 
Clapp said, "He is not for a time, but for all day." And 
what could be more deliciously perfect than the following : 
Senator Beck of Kentucky was an everlasting talker. One 
day a friend remarked to Senator Hoar, "I should think 
Beck would wear his brain all out talking so much." 
Whereupon Mr. Hoar replied, "Oh, that doesn't affect him 
any : he rests his mind when he is talking." This has, in- 
deed, a touch of sarcasm ; but it is as near the pure gold of 
wit as you often get. Or, take this. There being two 
houses both of which are insisted on as the real birthplace 
of the great philosopher and statesman, Mark Twain 
gravely informs us that "Franlilin was twins, having been 
born simultaneously in two different houses in Boston." 

One of the finest specimens of clear-cut wit is the saying 
of the Hon. Carroll D. Wright. Referring to the common 
saying, he once keenly remarked: "I know it is said that 
figures won't he, but, unfortunately, liars will figure." 

In contradistinction from wit, humor deals with inci- 
dents, characters, situations. True humor is altogether 
kindly ; for, while it points out and pictures the weaknesses 
and foibles of humanity, it feels no contempt and leaves no 
sting. It has its root in sympathy and blossoms out in 

It would take too long at this point in my lecture to quote 
complete specimens of humor ; for that woidd mean spread- 

210 Public Speaking 

ing out before you detailed scenes or full descriptions. But 
fortunately it is not necessary. Cervantes, Shakespeare, 
Charles Lamb, Dickens, and a host of others will readily 
occur to you. But what could be better of its kind than 
this? General Joe Johnston was one day riding leisurely 
behind his army on the march. Food had been scarce and 
rations limited. He spied a straggler in the brush beside 
the road. He called out sharply, "What are you doing 
here ? " Being caught out of the ranks was a serious offense, 
but the soldier was equal to the emergency. So to the Gen- 
eral's question he replied, "Pickin' 'simmons." The per- 
simmon, as you know, has the quality of puckering the 
mouth, as a certain kind of wild cherry used to mine when 
I was a boy. "What are you picking 'simmons for?" 
sharply rejoined the General. Then came the humorous 
reply that disarmed all of the ofl&cer's anger and appealed 
to his sympathy, while it hinted all "the boys" were suf- 
fering for the cause. "Well, the fact of it is, General, I'm 
trying to shrink up my stomach to the size of my rations, 
so I won't starve to death." 


From an article in The Philistine, with the permission of the author 

By Elbert Hubbakd 

When war broke out between Spain and the United States, 
it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the 
leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the 
mountain fastnesses of Cuba — no one knew where. No 
mail or telegraph message could reach him. The Presi- 
dent must secure his cooperation, and quickly. 

What to do ! 

The Public Lecture 211 

Some one said to the President, "There's a fellow by the 
name of Rowan will find Garcia for you if anybody can." 
Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to 
Garcia. How " the fellow by the name of Rowan " took the 
letter, sealed it up in an oilskin pouch, strapped it over his 
heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from 
an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, and in three weeks 
came out on the other side of the island, having traversed a 
hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia, 
are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail. 

The point I wish to make is this : McKinley gave Rowan 
a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter 
and did not ask, "Where is he at ? " By the Eternal ! there 
is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and 
the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not 
book learning young men need, nor instruction about this 
and that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause 
them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate 
their energies; do the thing — "Carry a message to 

General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias. 
No man who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise 
where many hands were needed, but has been well-nigh 
appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man — 
the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and 
do it. Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy 
indifference, and half-hearted work seem the rule ; and no 
man succeeds, unless by hook or crook, or threat, he forces 
or bribes other men to assist him ; or mayhap, God in His 
goodness performs a miracle, and sends him an angel of light 
for an assistant. 

212 Public Speaking 

And this incapacity for independent action, this moral 
stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to 
catch hold and lift, are the things that put pure socialism 
so far into the future. If men will not act for themselves, 
what will they do when the benefit of the effort is for all ? 

My heart goes out to the man who does his work when 
the "boss" is away as well as when he is at home. And 
the man, who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly takes 
the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with 
no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, 
or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets "laid off," 
nor has to go on a strike for higher wages. CiviUzation is 
one long anxious search for just such individuals. Any- 
thing such a man asks shall be granted ; his kind is so rare 
that no employer can afford to let him go. He is wanted 
in every city, town, and village — in every office, shop, 
store, and factory. The world cries out for such; he is 
needed, and needed badly — the man who can carry a message 
to Garcia. 


A Roman, an orator, and a triumvir, a conqueror when 
all Rome seemed armed against him only to have his glory 
"false played" by a womah "unto an enemy's triumph," 
— such is Shakespeare's story of Mark Antony. Passion 
alternates with passion, purpose with purpose, good with 
evil, and strength with weakness, until his whole nature 
seems changed, and we find the same and yet another man. 

In " Julius Caesar " Antony is seen at his best. He is the 
one triumphant figure of the play. Caesar falls. Brutus and 

The Public Lecture 213 

Cassius are in turn victorious and defeated, but Antony 
is everywhere a conqueror. Antony weeping over Caesar's 
body, Antony offering his breast to the daggers which have 
killed his master, is as plainly the sovereign power of the 
moment as when over Caesar's corpse he forces by his mag- 
netic oratory the prejudiced populace to call down curses 
on the heads of the conspirators. 

Caesar's spirit still hves in Antony, — a spirit that dares 
face the conspirators with swords still red with Caesar's 
blood and bid them, 

Whilst their purple hands do reek and smoke, 

fulfill their pleasure, — a spirit that over the dead body of 
Caesar takes the hand of each and yet exclaims : — 

" Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, 
Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, 
It would become me better than to close 
In terms of friendship with thine enemies." 

Permission is granted Antony to speak a farewell word 
over the body of Caesar in the crowded market place. Be- 
fore the populace, hostile and prejudiced, Antony stands 
as the friend of Caesar. Slowly, surely, making his approach 
step by step, with consummate tact he steals away their 
hearts and paves the way for his own victory. The hon- 
orable men gradually turn to villains of the blackest dye. 
Caesar's mantle, which but a moment before had called 
forth bitter curses, now brings tears to every Roman's eye. 
The populace fast yields to his eloquence. He conquers 
every vestige of distrust as he says : — 

"I am no orator, as Brutus is ; 
But, as you know me all, a plain, blunt man, 
That love my friend ; and that they know full weU 
That gave me public leave to speak of him." 

214 Public Speaking 

And now the matchless orator throws off his disguise. 
With resistless vehemence he pours forth a flood of eloquence 
which bears the fickle mob like straws before its tide : — 

" I tell you that which you yourselves do know ; 
Show you sweet Csesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, 
And bid them speak for me ; but were I Brutus, 
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony 
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue 
In every wound of Cassar, that would move 
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny." 

The effect is magical. The rage of the populace is quick- 
ened to a white heat ; and, baffled, beaten by a plain, blunt 
man, the terror-stricken conspirators ride like madness 
through the gates of Rome. 


From "Orations and After-Dinner Speeches," the Cassell Publishing 
Company, New York, publishers 

By Chauncey M. Depew 

Andre's story is the one overmastering romance of the 
Revolution. American and EngUsh literature is fuU of 
eloquence and poetry in tribute to his memory and sym- 
pathy for his fate. After the lapse of a htmdred years, 
there is no abatement of absorbing interest. What had 
this young man done to merit immortality ? The mission 
whose tragic issue hfted him out of the oblivion of other 
minor British officers, in its inception was free from peril or 
daring, and its objects and purposes were utterly infamous. 

Had he succeeded by the desecration of the honorable 
uses of passes and flags of truce, his name would have been 
held in everlasting execration. In his failure the infant 
Republic escaped the dagger with which he was feeling for 

The Public Lecture 215 

its heart, and the crime was drowned in tears for his un- 
timely end. His youth and beauty, the brightness of his 
Hfe, the calm courage in the gloom of his death, his early 
love and disappointment, surrounded him with a halo of 
poetry and pity which have secured for him what he most 
sought and could never have won in battles and sieges, — 
a fame and recognition which have outlived that of all the 
generals under whom he served. 

Are kings only ■ grateful, and do not republics forget? 
Is fame a travesty, and the judgment of mankind a farce ? 
America had a parallel case in Captain Nathan Hale. Of 
the same age as Andre, he, after graduation at Yale Col- 
lege with high honors, enUsted in the patriot cause at the 
begiiming of the contest, and secured the love and confidence 
of all about him. When none else would go upon a most 
important and perilous mission, he volunteered, and was 
captured by the British. 

While Andre received every kindness, courtesy, and at- 
tention, and was fed from Washington's table. Hale was 
thrust into a noisome dungeon in the sugarhouse. While 
Andre was tried by a board of officers and had ample time 
and every facility for defense. Hale was summarily ordered 
to execution the next morning. While Andre's last wishes 
and bequests were sacredly followed, the infamous Cunning- 
ham tore from Hale his cherished Bible and destroyed before 
his eyes his last letter to his mother and sister, and asked 
him what he had to say. " AU I have to say," was his reply, 
"is, I regret I have but one life to lose for my coimtry." 

The dying declarations of Andre and Hale express the 
animating spirit of their several armies, and teach why, with 
all her power, England could not conquer America. "I call 

216 Public Speaking 

upon you to witness that I die like a brave man," said Andr6, 
and he spoke from British and Hessian surroundings, seek- 
ing only glory and pay. " I regret I have but one life to lose 
for my country," said Hale ; and, with him and his comrades, 
self was forgotten in that absorbing, passionate patriotism 
which pledges fortune, honor, and life to the sacred cause. 

By Theodore Parker 

One raw morning in spring — it will be eighty years the nine- 
teenth day of this month — Hancock and Adams, the Moses 
and Aaron of that Great Deliverance, were both at Lexing- 
ton; they also had "obstructed an officer" with brave 
words. British soldiers, a thousand strong, came to seize 
them and carry them over sea for trial, and so nip the bud 
of Freedom auspiciously opening in that early spring. 
The town militia came together before daylight, "for train- 
ing." A great, tall man, with a large head and a high, wide 
brow, their captain, — one who had "seen service," — 
marshaled them into line, numbering but seventy, and 
bade " every man load his piece with powder and ball." ' ' I 
will order the first man shot that runs away," said he, when 
some faltered. "Don't fire unless fired upon, but if they 
want to have a war, let it begin here." 

Gentlemen, you know what followed ; those farmers and 
mechanics "fired the shot heard round the world." A httle 
monument covers the bones of such as before had pledged 
their fortune and their sacred honor to the Freedom of 
America, and that day gave it also their hves. I was born 
in that little town, and bred up amid the memories of that 
day. When a boy, my mother lifted me up, on Sxmday, 

The Public Lecture 217 

in her religious, patriotic arms, and held me while I read 
the first monumental line I ever saw — "Sacred to Liberty 
and the Rights of Mankind." 

Since then I have studied the memorial marbles of Greece 
and Rome, in many an ancient town; nay, on Egyptian 
obelisks, have read what was written before the Eternal 
roused up Moses to lead Israel out of Egypt, but no chiseled 
stone has ever stirred me to such emotion as these rustic 
names of men who fell 'In the Sacred Cause of God and 
their Country." 

Gentlemen, the Spirit of Liberty, the Love of Justice, was 
early farmed into a flame in my boyish heart. The monu- 
ment covers the bones of my own kinsfolk; it was their 
blood which reddened the long, green grass at Lexington. 
It was my own name which stands chiseled on that stone ; 
the tall Captain who marshaled his fellow farmers and me- 
chanics into stern array, and spoke such brave and danger- 
ous words as opened the war of American Independence, — 
the last to leave the field, — was my father's father. I 
learned to read out of his Bible, and with a musket he that 
day captured from the foe, I learned also another religious 
lesson, that "Rebellion to Tyrants is Obedience to God." 
I keep them both "Sacred to Liberty and the Rights of 
Mankind," to use them both "In the Sacred Cause of God 
and my Country." 


Reprinted with the permission of Henry W. Grady, Jr. 

By Henry W. Grady 

I went to Washington the other day, and I stood on the 
Capitol Hill ; my heart beat qviick as I looked at the tower- 

218 Public Speaking 

ing marble of my coim try's Capitol, and the mist gathered 
in my eyes as I thought of its tremendous significance, and 
the armies and the treasury, and the judges and the Presi- 
dent, and the Congress and the courts, and all that was 
gathered there. And I felt that the sun in all its course 
could not look down on a better sight than that majestic 
home of a republic that had taught the world its best les- 
sons of hberty. And I felt that if honor and wisdom and 
justice abided therein, the world would at last owe that 
great house in which the ark of the covenant of my country 
is lodged, its final uplifting and its regeneration. 

Two days afterward, I went to visit a friend in the coun- 
try, a modest man, with a quiet country home. It was 
just a simple, xmpretentious house, set about with big trees, 
encircled in meadow and field rich with the promise of 

Inside was quiet, cleanliness, thrift, and comfort. Out- 
side, there stood my friend, the master, a simple, upright 
man, with no mortgage on his roof, no hen on his growing 
crops, master of his own land and master of himself. There 
was his old father, an aged, trembling man, but happy in 
the heart and home of his son. 

They started to their home, and as they reached the door 
the old mother came with the sunset falling fair on her face, 
and lighting up her deep, patient eyes, while her lips, trem- 
bling with the rich music of her heart, bade her husband 
and son welcome to their home. Beyond was the house- 
wife, busy with her household cares, clean of heart and con- 
science, the buckler and helpmeet of her husband. Down 
the lane came the children, trooping home after the cows, 
seeking as truant birds do the quiet of their home nest. 

The Public Lecture 219 

And I saw the night come down on that house, falling 
gently as the wings of the unseen dove. And the old man 
— while a startled bird called from the forest, and the trees 
were shrill with the cricket's cry, and the stars were swarm- 
ing in the sky — got the family around him, and, taking 
the old Bible from the table, called them to their knees, 
the little baby hiding in the folds of its mother's dress, 
while he closed the record of that simple day by calling 
down God's benediction on that family and on that home. 
And while I gazed, the vision of that marble Capitol faded. 
Forgotten were its treasures and its majesty, and I said, 
"Oh, surely here in the homes of the people are lodged at 
last the strength and the responsibility of this government, 
the hope and the promise of this republic." 

By Canon G. W. Farrar 

When Abraham Lincoln sat, book in hand, day after 
day, under the tree, moving round it as the shadow crossed, 
absorbed in mastering his task ; when James Garfield rang 
the bell at Hiram Institute on the very stroke of the hour 
and swept the schoolroom as faithfully as he mastered his 
Greek lesson ; when Ulysses Grant, sent with his team to 
meet some men who came to load his cart with logs, and, 
finding no men, loaded the cart mth his own boy's strength, 
they showed in the conscientious performance of duty the 
qualities which were to raise them to become kings of men. 
When John Adams was told that his son, John Quincy 
Adams, had been elected President of the United States, he 
said, "He has always been laborious, child and man, from 

220 Public Speaking 

But the youth was not destined to die in the deep valley 
of obscurity and toil, in which it is the lot — and perhaps 
the happy lot — of most of us to spend our Httle lives. 
The hour came ; the man was needed. In 1861 there broke 
out that most terrible war of modern days. Grant received 
a commission as Colonel of Volunteers, and in four years 
the struggling toiler had been raised to the chief command 
of a vaster army than has ever been handled by any mortal 
man. Who could have imagined that four years would 
make that enormous difference? But it is often so. The 
great men needed for some tremendous crisis have stepped 
often, as it were, out of a door in the wall which no man had 
noticed; and, imannoimced, unheralded, without pres- 
tige, have made their way silently and single-handed to the 
front. And there was no luck in it. It was a work of in- 
flexible faithfulness, of indomitable resolution, of sleepless 
energy, and iron purpose and tenacity. In the campaigns 
at Fort Donelson; in the desperate battle at Shiloh; in 
the siege of Corinth; in battle after battle, in seige after 
seige ; whatever Grant had to do, he did it with his might. 
Other generals might fail — he would not fail. He showed 
what a man could do whose will was strong. He imder- 
took, as General Sherman said of him, what no one else 
would have ventured and his very soldiers began to reflect 
something of his indomitable determination. 

His sayings revealed the man. "I have nothing to do 
with opinions," he said at the outset, "and shall only deal 
with armed rebellion." "In riding over the field," he said 
at Shiloh, "I saw that either side was ready to give way, if 
the other showed a bold front. I took the opportunity, 
and ordered an advance along the whole line." "No 

The Public Lecture 221 

terms," he wrote to General Buckner at Fort Donelson 
(and it is pleasant to know that General Buckner stood as a 
warm friend beside his dying bed) ; "no terms other than 
imconditional surrender can be accepted." " My head- 
quarters," he wrote from Vicksburg, "will be on the field." 
With a military genius which embraced the vastest plans 
while attending to the smallest details, he defeated, one 
after another, every great general of the Confederates ex- 
cept Stonewall Jackson. The Southerners felt that he held 
them as in the grasp of a vise ; that this man could neither 
be arrested nor avoided. For all this he has been severely 
blamed. He ought not to be blamed. He has been called 
a butcher, which is grossly unjust. He loved peace; he 
hated bloodshed; his heart was generous and kind. His 
orders were to save lives, to save treasure, but at all costs 
to save his country — and he did save his country. 

After the surrender at Appomattox Court House, the war 
was over. He had put his hand to the plow and had looked 
not back. He had made blow after blow, each following 
where the last had struck ; he had wielded like a hammer 
the gigantic forces at his disposal, and had smitten opposition 
into the dust. It was a mighty work, and he had done it 
well. Surely history has shown that for the future destinies 
of a mighty nation it was a necessary and blessed work ! 


From the copyrighted print in " A Modern Reader and Speaker," by- 
George Riddle, with the permission of Duffield and Company, New 
York, publishers 

By Sherman Hoar 

I fear we undervalue the devotion to country which comes 
from a contemplation of what has been done and suffered 

222 Public Speaking 

in her name. I feel that we teach those who are to make or 
mar the future of this nation too much of what has been done 
elsewhere, and too little of what has been done here. Cour- 
age is the characteristic of no one land or time. The world's 
history is full of it and the lessons it teaches. American 
courage, however, is of this nation; it is ours, and if the 
finest national spirit is worth the creating ; if patriotism is 
still a quality to be engendered in our youth; if love of 
country is still to be a strong power for good, those acts of 
devotion and of heroic personal sacrifice with which our 
history is filled, are worthy of earnest study, of continued 
contemplation, and of perpetual consideration. 

"Let him who will, sing deeds done well across the sea, 
Here, lovely Land, men bravely live and die for Thee." 

The particular example I desire to speak about is of that 
splendid quality of courage which dares everything not for 
self or country, but for an enemy. It is of that kind which 
is called into existence not by dreams of glory, or by love 
of land, but by the highest human desire; the desire to 
mitigate suffering in those who are against us. 

In the afternoon of the day after the battle of Freder- 
icksburg, General Kershaw of the Confederate army was 
sitting in his quarters when suddenly a young South Caro- 
linian named Kirkland entered, and, after the usual saluta- 
tions, said: "General, I can't stand this." The general, 
thinking the statement a little abrupt, asked what it was he 
could not stand, and Kirkland replied: "Those poor fel- 
lows out yonder have been crying for water all day, and I 
have come to you to ask if I may go and give them some." 
The "poor fellows" were Union soldiers who lay wounded 
between the Union and Confederate lines. To go to them, 

The Public Lecture 223 

Kirkland must go beyond the protection of the breastworks 
and expose himself to a fire from the Union sharpshooters, 
who, so far during that day, had made the raising above 
the Confederate works of so much as a head an act of ex- 
treme danger. General Kershaw at first refused to allow 
Kirkland to go on his errand, but at last, as the lad per- 
sisted in his request, declined to forbid him, leaving the 
responsibility for action with the boy himself. Kirkland, 
in perfect delight, rushed from the general's quarters to 
the front, where he gathered all the canteens he could carry, 
filled them with water, and going over the breastworks, 
started to give relief to his wounded enemies. No sooner 
was he in the open field than our sharpshooters, supposing 
he was going to plunder their comrades, began to fire at 
him. For some minutes he went about doing good under 
circumstances of most imminent personal danger. Soon, 
however, those to whom he was taking the water recognized 
the character of his undertaking. All over the field men 
sat up and called to him, and those too hurt to raise them- 
selves, held up their hands and beckoned to him. Soon 
our sharpshooters, who luckily had not hit him, saw that 
he was indeed an Angel of Mercy, and stopped their fire, 
and two armies looked with admiration at the young man's 
pluck and loving-kindness. With a beautiful tenderness, 
Kirkland went about his work, giving of the water to all, 
and here and there placing a knapsack pillow under some 
poor wounded fellow's head, or putting in a more comfort- 
able position some shattered leg or arm. Then he went 
back to his own lines and the fighting went on. Tell me 
of a more exalted example of personal courage and self- 
denial than that of that Confederate soldier, or one which 

224 Public Speaking 

more clearly deserves the name of Christian fortitude. In 
that terrible War of the Rebellion, Kirkland gave up his 
life for a mistaken cause in the battle of Chickamauga, but 
I cannot help thanking God that, in our reunited country, 
we are joint heirs with the men from the South in the 
glory and inspiration that come from such heroic deeds 
as his. 


Reprinted, with permission, from " The Orations and Addresses of George 
William Curtis," Vol. III. Copyright, 1894, by Harper and Brothers 

By George William Curtis 

The Minuteman of the Revolution ! And who was he ? 
He was the old, the middle-aged, and the young. He was 
the husband and the father, who left his plow in the fur- 
row and his hammer on the bench, and marched to die or 
be free. He was the son and lover, the plain, shy youth of 
the singing school and the village choir, whose heart beat 
to arms for his country, and who felt, though he could not 
say with the old English cavalier : — 

"I could not love thee, dear, so much, 
Loved I not honor more." 

He was the man who was willing to pour out his life's 
blood for a principle. Intrenched in his own honesty, the 
king's gold could not buy him ; enthroned in the love of his 
fellow citizens, the king's writ could not take him; and 
when, on the morning of Lexington, the king's troops 
marched to seize him, his sublime faith saw, beyond the 
clouds of the moment, the rising sun of the America we 
behold, and, careless of himself, mindful only of his country, 
he exultingly exclaimed, "Oh, what a glorious morning!" 

The Public Lecture 225 

And then, amid the flashing hills, the ringing woods, the 
flaming roads, he smote with terror the haughty British 
column, and sent it shrinking, bleeding, wavering, and reel- 
ing through the streets of the village, panic-stricken and 

Him we gratefully recall to-day ; him we commit in his 
immortal youth to the reverence of our children. And here 
amid these peaceful fields, — here in the heart of Middle- 
sex County, of Lexington and Concord and Bunker Hill, 
stand fast, Son of Liberty, as the minuteman stood at the 
old North Bridge. But should we or our descendants, 
false to justice or humanity, betray in any way their cause, 
spring into life as a hundred years ago, take one more step, 
descend, and lead us, as God led you in saving America, 
to save the hopes of man. 

No hostile fleet for many a year has vexed the waters of 
our coast ; nor is any army but our own likely to tread our 
soil. Not such are our enemies to-day. They do not come, 
proudly stepping to the drumbeat, their bayonets flashing 
in the morning sun. But wherever party spirit shall strain 
the ancient guarantees of freedom ; or bigotry and igno- 
rance shall lay their fatal hands on education ; or the arro- 
gance of caste shall strike at equal rights; or corruption 
shall poison the very springs of national life, — there, 
Minuteman of Liberty, are your Lexington Green and 
Concord Bridge. And as you love your country and your 
kind, and would have your children rise up and call you 
blessed, spare not the enemy. Over the hills, out of the 
earth, down from the clouds, pour in resistless might. Fire 
from every rock and tree, from door and window, from 
hearthstone and chamber. Hang upon his flank from morn 


226 Public Speaking 

to sunset, and so, through a land blazing with indignation, 
hurl the hordes of ignorance and corruption and injustice 
back — back in utter defeat and ruin. 


Reprinted with permission from " The Orations and Addresses of George 

William Curtis," Vol. III. Copyright 1894, by Harper and Brothers 

By George William Curtis 

On Tuesday, April 18, 1775, Gage, the royal governor, 
who had decided to send a force to Concord to destroy the 
stores, picketed the roads from Boston into Middlesex, to 
prevent any report of the intended march from spreading 
into the country. But the very air was electric. In the 
tension of the popular mind, every soimd and sight was 
significant. In the afternoon, one of the governor's grooms 
strolled into a stable where John Ballard was cleaning a 
horse. John Ballard was a son of liberty ; and when the 
groom idly remarked in nervous English "about what 
would occur to-morrow," John's heart leaped and his hand 
shook, and, asking the groom to finish cleaning the horse, 
he ran to a friend, who carried the news straight to Paul 

Gage thought that his secret had been kept, but Lord 
Percy, who had heard the people say on the Common that 
the troops would miss their aim, undeceived him. Gage 
instantly ordered that no one should leave the town. But 
Dr. Warren was before him, and, as the troops crossed the 
river, Paul Revere was rowing over the river farther down 
to Charlestown, having agreed with his friend, Robert 
Newman, to show lanterns from the belfry of the Old North 
Church, — 

The Public Lecture 227 

"One, if by land, and two, if by sea," 
as a signal of the march of the British. 

It was a brilliant April night. The winter had been 
unusually mild and the spring very forward. The hills 
were already green; the early grain waved in the fields, 
and the air was sweet with blossoming orchards. Under 
the cloudless moon the soldiers silently marched, and Paul 
Revere swiftly rode, galloping through Medford and West 
Cambridge, rousing every house as he went, spurring for 
Lexington and Hancock and Adams, and evading the Brit- 
ish patrols, who had been sent out to stop the news. 

Stop the news ! Already the village church bells were 
beginning to ring the alarm, as the pulpits beneath them 
had been ringing for many a year. In the awakening 
houses lights flashed from window to window. Drums beat 
faintly far away and on every side. Signal guns flashed 
and echoed. The watchdogs barked ; the cocks crew. 

Stop the news ! Stop the sunrise ! The murmuring 
night trembled with the summons so earnestly expected, 
so dreaded, so desired. And as, long ago, the voice rang 
out at midnight along the Syrian shore, wailing that great 
Pan was dead, but in the same moment the choiring angels 
whispered, " Glory to God in the highest, for Christ is born," 
so, if the stern alarm of that April night seemed to many a 
wistful and loyal heart to portend the passing glory of 
British dominion and the tragical chance of war, it whis- 
pered to them with prophetic inspiration, "Good will to 
men ; America is born !" 

There is a tradition that long before the troops reached 
Lexington an unknown horseman thundered at the door of 
Captain Joseph Robbins in Acton, waking every man and 

228 Public Speaking 

woman and babe in the cradle, shouting that the regulars 
were marching to Concord and that the rendezvous was the 
old North Bridge. Captain Robbins' son, a boy of ten 
years, heard the summons in the garret where he lay, 
and in a few minutes was on his father's old mare, a young 
Paul Revere, galloping along the road to rouse Captain 
Isaac Davis, who commanded the minutemen of Acton. 
The company assembled at his shop, formed, and marched 
a little way, when he halted them and returned for a mo- 
ment to his house. He said to his wife, "Take good care 
of the children," kissed her, turned to his men, gave the 
order to march, and saw his home no more. Such was the 
history of that night in how many homes ! 

The hearts of those men and women of Middlesex might 
break, but they could not waver. They had coiinted the 
cost. They knew what and whom they served; and, as 
the midnight simimons came, they started up and an- 
swered, "Here am I !" 


From " Speeches and Lectures,'' with the permission of Lothrop, Lee and 
Shepard, Boston, publishers 

By Wendell Phu-lips 

We have a pitying estimate, a tender compassion, for 
the narrowness, ignorance, and darkness of the bygone ages. 
We seem to ourselves not only to monopolize, but to have 
begun, the era of light. In other words, we are all rtmning 
over with a fourth-day-of-July spirit of self-content. I am 
often reminded of the German whom the English poet Cole- 
ridge met at Frankfort. He always took off his hat with 
profoimd respect when he ventured to speak of himself. 

The Public Lecture 229 

It seems to me, the American people might be painted in 
the chronic attitude of taking off its hat to itseK. 

Considering their employment of the mechanical forces, 
and their movement of large masses from the earth, we 
know that the Egyptians had the five, seven, or three me- 
chanical powers ; but we cannot account for the multipli- 
cation and increase necessary to perform the wonders they 

There is a book telling how Domenico Fontana of the 
sixteenth century set up the Egyptian obehsk at Rome on 
end, in the Papacy of Sixtus V. Wonderful ! Yet the 
Egyptians quarried that stone, and carried it a hundred 
and fifty miles, and the Romans brought it seven hundred 
and fifty miles, and never said a word about it. 

Take canals. The Suez canal absorbs half its receipts 
in cleaning out the sand which fills it continually, and it is 
not yet known whether it is a pecuniary success. The 
ancients built a canal at right angles to ours ; because they 
knew it would not fill up if built in that direction, and they 
knew such a one as ours would. There were magnificent 
canals in the land of the Jews, with perfectly arranged gates 
and sluices. We have only just begun to understand ven- 
tilation properly for our houses; yet late experiments at 
the Pyramids in Egypt show that those Egyptian tombs 
were ventilated in the most perfect and scientific manner. 

Again, cement is modern, for the ancients dressed and 
joined their stones so closely, that, in buildings thousands 
of years old the thin blade of a penknife carmot be forced 
between them. The railroad dates back to Egypt. Arago 
has claimed that they had a knowledge of steam. A paint- 
ing has been discovered of a ship full of machinery, and a 

230 Public Speaking 

French engineer said that the arrangement of this machin- 
ery could only be accounted for by supposing the motive 
power to have been steam. Bramah acknowledges that 
he took the idea of his celebrated lock from an ancient 
Egyptian pattern. De Tocqueville says that there was 
no social question that was not discussed to rags in Egypt. 

"Well," say you, "Franklin invented the lightning rod." 
I have no doubt he did ; but years before his invention, and 
before muskets were invented, the old soldiers on guard on 
the towers used Franklin's invention to keep guard with ; 
and if a spark passed between them and the spearhead, 
they ran and bore the warning of the state and condition 
of affairs. After that you will admit that Benjamin Frank- 
lin was not the only one that knew of the presence of elec- 
tricity, and the advantages derived from its use. Solo- 
mon's Temple you will find was situated on an exposed 
point of the hill : the temple was so lofty that it was often 
in peril, and was guarded by a system exactly like that of 
Benjamin Franklin. 

Well, I may tell you a little of ancient manufactures. 
The Duchess of Burgundy took a necklace from the neck 
of a mimimy, and wore it to a ball given at the Tuileries ; 
and everybody said they thought it was the newest thing 
there. A Hindoo princess came into court ; and her father, 
seeing her, said, "Go home, you are not decently covered, 
— go home ; " and she said, " Father, I have seven suits 
on;" but the suits were of musHn so thin that the king 
could see through them. A Roman poet says, "the girl 
was in the poetic dress of the country." I fancy the French 
would be rather astonished at this. Four hundred and 
fifty years ago the first spinning machine was introduced 

The Public Lecture 231 

into Exirope, I have evidence to show that it made its 
first appearance two thousand years before. 

Why have I groped among these ashes? I have told 
you these facts to show you that we have not invented 
everything — that we do not monopoUze the encyclopedia. 
The past had knowledge. But it was the knowledge of 
the classes, not of the masses. "The beauty that was 
Greece and the grandeur that was Rome" were exclusive, 
the possession of the few. The science of Egj^t was 
amazing; but it meant privilege — the privilege of the 
king and the priest. It separated royalty and priesthood 
from the people, and was the engine of oppression. When 
Cambyses came down from Persia and thundered across 
EgjTpt, treading out royalty and priesthood, he trampled 
out at the same time civilization itself. 

The distinctive glory of the nineteenth century is that 
it distributes knowledge ; that it recognizes the divine will, 
which is that every man has a right to know whatever may 
be serviceable to himself or to his fellows; that it makes 
the church, the schoolhouse, and the town hall, its symbols, 
and humanity its care. This democratic spirit will animate 
our arts with immortality, if God means that they shall 


An extract from " A Man Without a Country '' 

By Edward Everett Hale 

Philip Nolan was as fine a young ofiicer as there was in 
the "Legion of the West," as the Western division of our 
army was then called. When Aaron Burr made his first 
dashing expedition down to New Orleans in 1805, at Fort 

232 Public Speaking 

Massac, or somewhere above on the river, he met, as the 
devil would have it, this gay, dashing, bright young fellow ; 
at some dirmer party, I think. Burr marked him, talked 
to him, walked with him, took him a day or two's voyage in 
his flatboat, and, in short, fascinated him. For the next 
year, barrack life was very tame to poor Nolan. He occa- 
sionally availed himself of the permission the great man had 
given him to write to him. Long, high-worded, stilted 
letters the poor boy wrote and rewrote and copied. But 
never a line did he have in reply from the gay deceiver. 
The other boys in the garrison sneered at him, because he 
sacrificed in this imrequited affection for a politician the 
time which they devoted to Monongahela, hazard, and high- 
low-jack. But one day Nolan had his revenge. This time 
Burr came down the river, not as an attorney seeking a 
place for his oflSce, but as a disguised conquerer. He had 
defeated I know not how many district attorneys ; he had 
dined at I know not how many pubHc dinners ; he had been 
heralded in I don't know how many "Weekly Arguses," and 
it was rumored that he had an army behind him and an 
empire before him. It was a great day — his arrival — 
to poor Nolan. Burr had not been at the fort an hour 
before he sent for him. That evening he asked Nolan to 
take him out in his skifif, to show him a canebrake or a Cot- 
tonwood tree, as he said — really to seduce him ; and by 
the time the sail was over, Nolan was enHsted body and soul. 
From that time, though he did not yet know it, he lived as 


What Burr meant to do I know no more than you. It is 
none of our business just now. Only, when the grand catas- 
trophe came, and Jefferson and the House of Virginia of that 

The Public Lecture 233 

day undertook to break on the wheel all the possible Clarences 
of the then House of York, by the great treason trial at Rich- 
mond, some of the lesser fry in that distant Mississippi 
Valley, which was farther from us than Puget's Sound is 
to-day, introduced the like novelty on their provincial 
stage ; and, to while away the monotony of the summer at 
Fort Adams, got up, for "spectacles," a string of court-mar- 
tials on the oflEicers there. One and another of the colonels 
and majors were tried, and, to fill out the Hst, little Nolan, 
against whom, Heaven knows, there was evidence enough — 
that he was sick of the service, had been willing to be false 
to it, and would have obeyed any order to march any-whither 
with any one who would follow him had the order been 
signed, "By command of His Exc. A. Burr." The courts 
dragged on. The big flies escaped — rightly for all I 
know. Nolan was proved guilty enough, as I say; yet 
you and I would never have heard of him, but that, when the 
president of the court asked him at the close whether he 
wished to say anything to show that he had always been 
faithful to the United States, he cried out, in a fit of frenzy: — 
"Damn the United States ! I wish I may never hear of 
the United States again !" 

I suppose he did not know how the words shocked old. 
Colonel Morgan, who was holding the court. He, on his 
part, had grown up in the West of those days, in the midst of 
"Spanish plot," "Orleans plot," and all the rest. He had 
spent half his youth with an older brother, hunting horses 
in Texas; and, in a word, to him "United States" was 
scarcely a reality. Yet he had been fed by "United States " 
for all the years since he had been in the army. He had 
sworn on his faith as a Christian to be true to "United 

234 Public Speaking 

States." It was "United States" which gave him the tmi- 
form he wore, and the sword by his side. I do not excuse 
Nolan; I only explain to the reader why he damned his 
country, and wished he might never hear her name again. 

He never did hear her name but once again. From that 
moment, September 23, 1807, till the day he died, May 11, 
1863, he never heard her name again. For that half cen- 
tury and more he was a man without a coimtry. 

Old Morgan, as I said, was terribly shocked. He called 
the court into his private room, and retmned in fifteen 
minutes, with a face like a sheet, to say : — 

"Prisoner, hear the sentence of the court ! The court 
decides, subject to the approval of the president, that you 
never hear the name of the United States again." 

Nolan laughed. But nobody else laughed. Old Morgan 
was too solemn, and the whole room was hushed dead as 
night for a minute. Even Nolan lost his swagger in a mo- 
ment. Then Morgan added : — 

"Mr. Marshal, take the prisoner to Orleans in an armed 
boat, and deliver him to the naval commander there." 

The marshal gave his orders and the prisoner was taken 
out of court. 

"Mr. Marshal," continued old Morgan, "see that no 
one mentions the United States to the prisoner. Mr. 
Marshal, make my respects to Lieutenant Mitchell at 
Orleans, and. request him to order that no one shall mention 
the United States to the prisoner while he is on board ship. 
You will receive your written orders from the officer on duty 
here this evening. The court is adjourned without day." 

•The plan then adopted was substantially the same which 
was necessarily followed ever after. The Secretary of the 

The Public Lecture 235 

Navy was requested to put Nolan on board a government 

vessel bound on a long cruise, and to direct that he should be 

only so far confined there as to make it certain that he never 

saw or heard of the country. One afternoon a lot of the 

men sat on the deck smoking and reading aloud. Well, so 

it happened that in his turn Nolan took the book and read 

to the others ; and he read very well. Nobody in the circle 

knew a line of the poem, only it was all magic and Border 

chivalry, and was ten thousand years ago. Poor Nolan 

read steadily through the fifth canto without a thought of 

what was coming : — 

" Breathes there the man with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said," — 

It seems impossible to us that anybody ever heard this for 

the first time; but all these fellows did then, and poor 

Nolan himself went on, still unconsciously or mechanically : — 

" This is my own, my native land! " 

Then they all saw something was to pay ; but he expected 

to get through, I suppose, turned a little pale, but plimged 

on: — 

" Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned 
As home his footsteps he hath turned 
From wandering on a foreign strand ? — 
If such there breathe, go, mark him well," — 

By this time the men were all beside themselves, wishing 

there was any way to make him turn over two pages ; but 

he had not quite presence of mind for that; he gagged a 

little, colored crimson, and staggered on : — 

" For him no minstrel raptures swell; 
High though his titles, proud his name, 
Boimdless his wealth as wish can daim, 
Despite these titles, power, and pelf. 
The wretch, concentred all in self," — 

236 Public Speaking 

and here the poor fellow choked, could not go on, but 
started up, swung the book into the sea, vanished into his 
stateroom, and we did not see him for two months again. 
He never entered in with the yoimg men exactly as a com- 
panion again ; but generally he had the nervous, tired look 
of a heart-woimded man. 

And when Nolan died, there was found in his Bible a slip 
of paper at the place where he had marked the text : — 

"They desire a coimtry, even a heavenly; wherefore 
God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He hath 
prepared for them a city." 

On this shp of paper he had written : — 

"Bury me in the sea; it has been my home, and I love 
it. But will not some one set up a stone for my memory at 
Fort Adams or at Orleans, that my disgrace may not be 
more than I ought to bear ? Say on it : — 
" In Memory of 
" Philip Nolan, 
"Lieutenant in the Army of the United States. 
"He loved his country as no other man has loved her ; but 
no man deserved less at her hands." 


From " Cuba in War Time," with the author's permission 

By Richard Haeding Davis 

Adolfo Rodriguez was the only son of a Cuban farmer. 
When the revolution broke out, young Rodriguez joined 
the insurgents, leaving his father and mother and two sis- 
ters at the farm. He was taken by the Spanish, was tried 
by a miHtary court for bearing arms against the govern- 
ment, and sentenced to be shot by a fusillade some morn- 

The Public Lecture 237 

ing before sunrise. His execution took place a half mile 
distant from the city, on the great plain that stretches from 
the forts out to the hills, beyond which Rodriguez had 
lived for nineteen years. 

There had been a full moon the night preceding the exe- 
cution, and when the squad of soldiers marched out from 
town, it was still shining brightly through the mists. It 
lighted a plain two miles in extent broken by ridges and 
gullies and covered with thick, high grass and with bunches 
of cactus and palmetto. 

The execution was quickly finished with rough, and, but 
for one frightful blunder, with merciful swiftness. The 
crowd fell back when it came to the square of soldiery, and 
the condemned man, the priests, and the firing squad of six 
young volunteers passed in and the lines closed behind 

Rodriguez bent and kissed the cross which the priest 
held up before him. He then walked to where the ofl&cer 
directed him to stand, and turned his back to the square 
and faced the hills and the road across them which led to 
his father's farm. As the officer gave the first command 
he straightened himself as far as the cords would allow, 
and held up his head and fixed his eyes immovably on the 
morning light which had just begun to show above the hills. 

The officer had given the order, the men had raised their 
pieces, and the condemned man had heard the clicks of the 
triggers as they were pulled back, and he had not moved. 
And then happened one of the most cruelly refined, though 
unintentional, acts of torture that one can very well imag- 
ine. As the officer slowly raised his sword, preparatory 
to giving the signal, one of the mounted officers rode up to 

238 Public Speaking 

him and pointed out silently, the firing squad were so 
placed that when they fired they would shoot several of 
the soldiers stationed on the extreme end of the square. 

Their captain motioned his men to lower their pieces, 
and then walked across the grass and laid his hand on the 
shoulder of the waiting prisoner. It is not pleasant to 
think what that shock must have been. The man had 
steeled himself to receive a volley of bullets in the back. 
He believed that in the next instant he would be in another 
world; he had heard the command given, had heard the 
click of the Mausers as the locks caught — and then, at that 
supreme moment, a human hand had been laid upon his 
shoulder and a voice spoke in his ear. 

You would expect that any man who had been snatched 
back to life in such a fashion would start and tremble at 
the reprieve, or would break down altogether, but this boy 
turned his head steadily, and followed with his eyes the 
direction of the ofl&cer's sword, then nodded his head 
gravely, and with his shoulders squared, took up a new 
position, straightened his back again, and once more held 
himself erect. As an exhibition of self-control this should 
surely rank above feats of heroism performed in battle, 
where there are thousands of comrades to give inspiration. 
This man was alone, in sight of the hills he knew, with only 
enemies about him, with no source to draw on for strength 
but that which lay within himself. 

The ofi&cer of the firing squad, mortified by his blunder, 
hastily whipped up his sword, the men once more leveled 
their rifles, the sword rose, dropped, and the men fired. 
At the report the Cuban's head snapped back almost be- 
tween his shoulders, but his body fell slowly, as though 

The Public Lecture 239 

some one had pushed him gently forward from behind and 
he had stumbled. He sank on his side in the wet grass with- 
out a struggle or sound, and did not move again. 

At that moment the sun, which had shown some promise 
of its coming in the glow above the hills, shot up suddenly 
from behind them in all the splendor of the tropics, a fierce, 
red disk of heat, and filled the air with warmth and light. 



Froia " Essays in Application," with the permission of Charles Scribner's 
Sons, New York, publishers 

By Henry van Dyke 

There is the highest authority for beheving that a man's 
life, even though he be an author, consists not in the abun- 
dance of things that he possesses. Rather is its real value to 
be sought in the quality of the ideas and feelings that pos- 
sess him, and in the effort to embody them in his work. 

The work is the great thing. The dehght of clear and 
steady thought, of free and vivid imagination, of pure 
and strong emotion; the fascination of searching for the 
right words, which sometimes come in shoals like herring, 
so that the net can hardly contain them, and at other times 
are more shy and fugacious than the wary trout which re- 
fuse to be lured from their hiding places ; the pleasure of 
putting the fit phrase in the proper place, of making a con- 
ception stand out plain and firm with no more and no less 
than is needed for its expression, of doing justice to an imag- 
inary character so that it shall have its own Hfe and signifi- 
cance in the world of fiction, of working a plot or an argu- 
ment clean through to its inevitable close: these inward 
and unpurchasable joys are the best wages of the men and 
women who write. 

What more will they get? Well, unless history forgets 
to repeat itself, their additional wages, their personal divi- 


The Informal Discussion 241 

dends under the profit-sharing system, so to speak, will be 
various. Some wiU probably get more than they deserve, 
others less. 

The next best thing to the joy of work is the wiiming of 
gentle readers and friends who find some good in yoiu: book, 
and are grateful for it, and think kindly of you for writing 

The next best thing to that is the recognition, on the part 
of people who know, that your work is weU done, and of 
fine quality. That is called fame, or glory, and the writer 
who professes to care nothing for it is probably deceiving 
himself, or else his Uver is out of order. Real reputation, 
even of a modest kind and of a brief dtiration, is a good 
thing ; an author ought to be able to be happy without it, 
but happier with it. 


From the Introduction to " The World's Famous Orations," with the per- 
mission of Funk and Wagnalls Company, New York and London, 

By Wn,LiAM Jennings Bryan 

While it is absolutely necessary for the orator to master 
his subject and to speak with earnestness, his speech can be 
made more effective by the addition of clearness, brevity and 
apt illustrations. 

Clearness of statement is of very great importance. It is 
not sufScient to say that there are certain self-evident truths ; 
it is more accurate to say that all truth is self-evident. Be- 
cause truth is self-evident, the best service that one can ren- 
der a truth is to state it so clearly that it can be compre- 
hended, needs no argument in its support. In debate, 
therefore, one's first effort should be to state his own side 

242 Public Speaking 

so clearly and concisely as to make the principles involved 
easily understood. His second object should be so to divest 
his opponent's argument of useless verbiage as to make it 
stand forth clearly ; for as truth is self-evident, so error bears 
upon its face its own condemnation. Error needs only to 
be exposed to be overthrown. 

Brevity of statement also contributes to the force of a 
speaker. It is possible so to enfold a truth in long-drawn-out 
sentences as practically to conceal it. The epigram is pow- 
erful because it is full of meat and short enough to be 
remembered. To know when to stop is almost as important 
as to know where to begin and how to proceed. The ability 
to condense great thoughts into small words and brief sen- 
tences is an attribute of genius. Often one lays down a 
book with the feeling that the author has "said nothing with 
elaboration," while in perusing another book one finds a 
whole sermon in a single sentence, or an unanswerable ar- 
gument couched in a well-turned phrase. 

The interrogatory is frequently employed by the orator, 
and when msely used is irresistible. What dynamic power 
for iQstance, there is in that question propoimded by Christ, 
"What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and 
lose his own sovl ? " Volumes could not have presented so 
effectively the truth that he sought to impress upon his 

The illustration has no imimportant place in the equip- 
ment of the orator. We understand a thing more easily 
when we know that it is like something which we have al- 
ready seen. Illustrations may be drawn from two sources — 
nature and literature — and of the two, those from nature 
have the greater weight. All learning is valuable; all 

The Informal Discussion 243 

history is useful. By knowing what has been we can better 
judge the future ; by knowing how men have acted hereto- 
fore we can understand how they will act again in similar 
circumstances. But people know nature better than they 
know books, and the illustrations drawn from everyday life 
are the most effective. 

If the orator can seize upon something within the sight or 
hearing of his audience, — something that comes to his notice 
at the moment and as if not thought of before, — it will add 
to the effectiveness of the illustration. For instance, Paul's 
speech to the Athenians derived a large part of its strength 
from the fact that he called attention to an altar near by, 
erected "to the Unknown God," and then proceeded to 
declare unto them the God whom they ignorantly wor- 

Abraham Lincoln used scripture quotations very fre- 
quently and very powerfully. Probably no Bible quotation, 
or, for that matter, no quotation from any book ever has had 
more influence upon a people than the famous quotation 
made by Lincoln in his Springfield speech of 1858, — "A 
house divided against itself cannot stand." It is said that 
he had searched for some time for a phrase which would 
present in the strongest possible way the proposition he 
intended to advance — namely, that the nation could not 
endure half slave and half free. 

It is a compliment to a public speaker that the audience 
should discuss what he says rather than his manner of say- 
ing it ; more complimentary that they should remember his 
arguments, than that they should praise his rhetoric. The 
orator should seek to conceal himself behind his subject. If 
he presents himself in every speech he is sure to become 

244 Public Speaking 

monotonous, if not offensive. If, however, he focuses at- 
tention upon his subject, he can find an infinite number of 
themes and, therefore, give variety to his speech. 


From " Essays in Application," with the permission of Charles Scribner's 
Sons, New York, publishers 

By Henry van Dyke 

Every one knows what books are. But what is literature ? 
It is the ark on the flood. It is the light on the candlestick. 
It is the flower among the leaves ; the consummation of the 
plant's vitality, the crown of its beauty, and the treasure 
house of its seeds. It is hard to define, easy to describe. 

Literature is made up of those writings which translate 
the inner meanings of nature and life, in language of dis- 
tinction and charm, touched with the personality of the 
author, into artistic forms of permanent interest. The 
best literature, then, is that which has the deepest signifi- 
cance, the most lucid style, the most vivid individuality, 
and the most enduring form. 

On the last point contemporary judgment is but guess- 
work, but on the three other points it should not be impos- 
sible to form, nor improper to express, a definite opinion. 

Literature has its permanent marks. It is a connected 
growth, and its life history is unbroken. Masterpieces 
have never been produced by men who have had no masters. 
Reverence for good work is the foundation of literary char- 
acter. The refusal to praise bad work, or to imitate it, is 
an author's personal chastity. 

Good work is the most honorable and lasting thing in the 
world. Four elements enter into good work in literature : — 

The Informal Discussion 245 

An original impulse — not necessarily a new idea, but a 
new sense of the value of an idea. 

A first-hand study of the subject and the material. 

A patient, joyful, unsparing labor for the perfection of 

A hiunan aim — to cheer, console, purify, or ennoble the 
life of the people. 

Without this aim hterature has never sent an arrow close 
to the mark. 

It is only by good work that men of letters can justify 
their right to a place in the world. The father of Thomas 
Carlyle was a stonemason, whose walls stood true and 
needed no rebuilding. Carlyle's prayer was, "Let me 
write my books as he built his houses." 


From an address before the New York Chamber of Commerce, 1890 

By Charles William Eliot 

Before we can talk together to advantage about the 
value of education in business, we ought to come to a 
common understanding about the sort of education we 
mean and the sort of business. 

We must not think of the liberal education of to-day as 
dealing with a dead past — with dead languages, buried peo- 
ples, exploded philosophies; on the contrary, everything 
which universities now teach is quick with life and capable 
of application to modern uses. They teach indeed the 
languages and hterature of Judea, Greece, and Rome ; but 
it is because those Uteratures are instinct with eternal life. 
They teach mathematics, but it is mathematics mostly 
created within the hfetime of the older men here present. 

246 Public Speaking 

In teaching English, French, and German, they are teach- 
ing the modern vehicles of all learning — just what Latin 
was in medieval times. As to history, political science, 
and natural science, the subjects, and all the methods by 
which they are taught, may properly be said to be new 
within a century. Liberal education is not to be justly 
regarded as something dry, withered, and effete ; it is as 
full of sap as the cedars of Lebanon. 

And what sort of business do we mean ? Surely the larger 
sorts of legitimate and honorable business ; that business 
which is of advantage bolJi to buyer and seller, and to pro- 
ducer, distributor, and consumer alike, whether individuals 
or nations, which makes common some useful thing which 
has been rare, or makes accessible to the masses good things 
which have been within reach only of the few — I wish I 
cotdd say simply which make dear things cheap ; but re- 
cent political connotations of the word cheap forbid. We 
mean that great art of production and exchange which 
through the centuries has increased human comfort, cher- 
ished peace, fostered the fine arts, developed the pregnant 
principle of associated action, and promoted both public 
security and public hberty. 

With this understanding of what we mean by education 
on the one hand and business on the other, let us see if there 
can be any doubt as to the nature of the relations between 
them. The business man in large affairs requires keen ob- 
servation, a quick mental grasp of new subjects, and a wide 
range of knowledge. Whence come these powers and at- 
tainments — either to the educated or to the uneducated 
— save through practice and study ? But education is 
only early systematic practice and study under guidance. 

The Informal Discussion 247 

The object of all good education is to develop just these 
powers — accuracy in observation, quickness and cer- 
tainty in seizing upon the main points of new subjects, and 
discrimination in separating the trivial from the important 
in great masses of facts. This is what liberal education 
does for the physician, the lawyer, the minister, and the 
scientist. This is what it can do also for the man of busi- 
ness ; to give a mental power is one of the main ends of the 
higher education. Is not active business a field in which 
mental power finds full play? Again, education imparts 
knowledge, and who has greater need to know economics, 
history, and natural science than the man of large business ? 
Further, liberal education develops a sense of right, duty, 
and honor ; and more and more, in the modern world, large 
business rests on rectitude and honor, as well as on good 
judgment. Education does this through the contempla- 
tion and study of the moral ideals of our race ; not in drowsi- 
ness or dreaminess or in mere vague enjoyment of poetic 
and religious abstractions, but in the resolute purpose to 
apply spiritual ideals to actual Hfe. The true university 
fosters ideals, but always to urge that they be put into prac- 
tice in the real world. When the universities hold up before 
their youth the great Semitic ideals which were embodied in 
the Decalogue, they mean that those ideals should be apphed 
in politics. When they teach their young men that Asiatic 
ideal of vmknown antiquity, the Golden Rule, they mean 
that their disciples shall apply it to business; when they 
inculcate that comprehensive maxim of Christian ethics, 
"Ye are all members of one another," they mean that this 
moral principle is applicable to all human relations, whether 
between individuals, families, states, or nations. 

248 Public Speaking 


From the author's lectures on oratory, with his permission 

By Thomas Wentworth Higginson 

It is a singular fact that the three leaders of the revolu- 
tion, in the Massachusetts colony, John Adams, Sam Adams, 
and Oxenbridge Thatcher, were all trained originally to be 
clergymen, and all afterwards determined to be lawyers, 
and get their legal training in addition. John Adams did 
it; Oxenbridge Thatcher did it. Sam Adams's parents 
held so hard to the doctrine that the law was a disreputable 
profession that they never allowed him to enter it. He 
went into business, but before he got through, mixed him- 
self up with legal questions more than the two others put 
together. And what is more, and what has only lately 
been brought out distinctly, there existed in the southern 
colonies represented by Virginia very much the same 
feeling, only coming from a different source. 

It was not a question of church membership or of eccle- 
siastical training — the southern colonies never troubled 
themselves very much about those things — but turned 
upon a wholly different thing. The southern colonies were 
based on land ownership ; the aim was to build up a type 
of society like the Enghsh type, an aristocratic system of 
landowners as in England. And these miscellaneous men 
who, without owning large estates or large numbers of 
slaves, came forward to try cases ra court, were regarded 
with the same sort of suspicion which the same class had 
to meet in Massachusetts. 

Patrick Henry, the greatest of Virginians for the purpose 
for which Providence had marked him out, was always re- 
garded by Jefferson in very much the same light in which 

The Informal Discussion 249 

Sam Adams was by his uncles, who were afraid he wanted 
to be a lawyer. Henry was regarded as a man from the 
people, an irregularly trained man. Jefferson, you will 
find, criticizes his pronunciation severely. He talked about 
"yearth" instead of "earth." He said that a man's 
"nateral" parts needed to be improved by "eddication." 
Jefferson had traveled in Europe and talked with culti- 
vated men in other countries. He did not do that sort of 
thing, and he, not being a man of the most generous or 
candid nature, always tries to make us think that Patrick 
Henry was a nobody who had very Uttle practice. And it 
was not until the admirable life of him written for the 
"American Statesmen" series by my predecessor in this 
lectureship, Moses Coit Tyler, whose loss we so greatly 
mourn, that it was clearly made out that, on the contrary, 
he had an immense legal practice and was wonderfully suc- 
cessful in a great variety of cases. 

So, both North and South, there was this antagonism to 
this new class coming forward; and yet that new class 
stepped forward and took the leadership of the American 
Revolution. Not that the clergy were false to their duty. 
They did their duty well. There is a book by J. Wingate 
Thornton, called "The Clergy of the American Revolution," 
which contains an admirable and powerful series of sermons 
by those very clergymen whom I have criticized for their 
limitations. They did their part admirably, and yet one 
sees as time goes on that the lawyers are taking matters 
into their own hands. 

But the change was not always a benefit to the style of 
oratory. It was a period of somewhat formal style; it 
was not a period when the English language was reaching 

250 Public Speaking 

to its highest sources. You will be surprised to find, for in- 
stance, in the books and addresses of that period how little 
Shakespeare is quoted, how much oftener much inferior 
poets. In Edmimd Burke's orations he quotes Shakespeare 
very Uttle; and Edmund Burke's orations are interesting 
especially for this, that they are not probably the original 
addresses which he gave, are literature rather than oratory, 
and are now generally supposed to have been written out 

Like Burke most of the orators of that period have a 
certain formal style. When all is said and done, the clergy 
got a certain pithiness from that terrific habit they had of 
going back every little while and pinning down their thought 
with a text. One English clergyman of the period com- 
pared his text to a horse block on which he ascended when 
he wished to moimt his horse, and then he rode his horse 
as long as he wished and might or might not come back to 
that horse block again. Therefore we see in the oratory 
of that time a certain formality. 

Moreover, in the absence of the modern reporter, we really 
do not know exactly what was said in the greatest speeches 
of that day. The modern reporter, whose aim is to report 
everything that is said, and who generally succeeds in put- 
ting in a great many fine things which haven't occurred to 
the orators — the modern reporter was not known, and we 
have but very few descriptions even of the great orations. 

The Informal Discussion 251 


From the author's lectures on oratory, with his permission 

By Thomas Wentworth Higginson 

It happened to me, when I was in college, to be once on 
some business at an office on State Street in Boston, then 
as now the central business street of the place, in a second- 
story office where there were a number of young men writ- 
ing busily at their desks. Presently one of the youths, 
passing by accident across the room, stopped suddenly and 
said, — 

"There is Daniel Webster !" 

In an instant every desk in that room was vacated, every 
pane in every window was filled with a face looking out, 
and I, hastening up behind them, found it difficult to get a 
view of the street so densely had they crowded round it. 
And once looking out, I saw all up and down the street, in 
every window I could see, just the same mass of eager 
faces behind the windows. Those faces were all concen- 
trated on a certain figure, a farmerlike, sunburned man who 
stood, roughly clothed, with his hands behind him, speak- 
ing to no one, looking nowhere in particular; waiting, 
so far as I could see, for nothing, with broad shoulders and 
heavy muscles, and the head of a hero above. Such a brow, 
such massive formation, such magnificent black eyes, such 
straight black eyebrows I had never seen before. 

That man, it appeared, was Daniel Webster ! I saw peo- 
ple go along the street sidhng along past him, looking up 
at him as if he were the Statue of Liberty Enlightening the 
World in New York harbor. Nobody knew what he 
wanted, it never was explained ; he may have been merely 
waiting for some companion to go fishing. But there he 

252 Public Speaking 

was, there he stands in my memory. I don't know what 
happened afterwards, or how these young men ever got 
back, to their desks — if they ever did. 

For me, however, that figure was revealed by one brief 
duplicate impression, which came in a few months after- 
wards when I happened to be out in BrookUne, a suburb 
of Boston, where people used to drive then, as they drive 
now, on summer afternoons for afternoon tea '■ — only, 
afternoon tea not having been invented, they drove out 
to their neighbors' houses for fruit or a cup of chocolate. 

You have heard Boston perhaps called the "Hub of the 
universe." A lady, not a Bostonian, once said that if Bos- 
ton were the hub of the universe, Brookline ought to be 
called the "Sub-hub." In the "sub-hub" I was sitting 
in the house of a kinsman who had a beautiful garden; 
who was the discoverer, in fact, of the Boston nectarine, 
which all the world came to his house to taste. I heard 
voices in the drawing-room and went in there. And there 
I saw again before me the figure of that day on State street, 
but it was the figure of a man with a beamingly good- 
natured face, seated in a soUd chair brought purposely to 
accommodate his weight, sitting there with the simple culi- 
nary provision of a cup of chocolate in his hand. 

It so happened that the great man, the godlike Daniel, as 
the people used to call him, had expressed the very mortal 
wish for a Httle more sugar in his chocolate ; and 1, if you 
please, was the fortunate youth who, passing near him, was 
selected as the Ganymede to bring to him the refreshment 
desired. I have felt ever since that I, at least, was priv- 
ileged to put one drop of sweetness into the life of that 
great man, a Ufe very varied and sometimes needing re- 

The Informal Discussion 253 

freshment. And I have since been given by my classmates 
to understand — I find they recall it to this day — that 
upon walking through the college yard for a week or two 
after that opportunity, I carried my head so much higher 
than usual as to awaken an amount of derision which un- 
doubtedly, if it had been at West Point, would have led to 
a boxing match. 

That -was Daniel Webster, one of the two great lawyers 
of Boston — I might almost say, of the American bar 
at that time. 


From the author's lectures on oratory, with his permission 

By Thomas Wentworth Higginson 

Daniel Webster, you will find somewhere in his letters, 
when he first came back from England, was quite astonished, 
after hearing a subject discussed in Parliament, at hearing 
it discussed in Congress also, and finding that the question 
had been settled in about as many hours in Parliament as 
it took days to settle it in Congress. 

The Englishman, as far as I have observed, as a rule gets 
up with reluctance, and begins with difficulty. Just as 
you are beginning to feel seriously anxious for him, you 
gradually discover that he is on the verge of saying some un- 
commonly good thing. Before you are fully prepared for 
it he says that good thing, and then to your infinite amaze- 
ment he sits down ! 

The American begins with an ease which relieves you of 
all anxiety. The anxiety begins when he talks a while 
without making any special point. He makes his point at 
last, as good perhaps as the EngUshman's, possibly better. 

254 Public Speaking 

But then when he has made it, you find that he goes on feeV 
ing for some other good point, and he feels and feels so long, 
that perhaps he sits down at last without having made it. 

My ideal of a perfect speech in public would be that it 
should be conducted by a syndicate or trust, as it were, of 
the two nations, and that the guaranty should be that an 
American should be provided to begin every speech and 
an Englishman provided to end it. 

Then, when we go a Uttle farther and consider the act of 
speech itself, and its relation to the word, we sometimes 
meet with a doubt that we see expressed occasionally in 
the daily papers provided for us with twenty pages per diem 
and thirty-two on Sunday, whether we wUl need much longer 
anything but what is called sometimes by clergymen "the 
printed word " — whether the whole form of communica- 
tion through oral speech will not diminish or fade away. 

It seems to me a truly groundless fear — like wondering 
whether there will ever be a race with only one arm or one 
leg, or a race of people who Hve only by the eye or by the 
ear. The difference between the written word and the 
spoken word is the difference between solitude and com- 
panionship, between meditation and something so near 
action that it is at least halfway to action and creates ac- 
tion. It is perfectly supposable to imagine a whole race 
of authors of whom not one should ever exchange a word 
with a hiunan being while his greatest work is being pro- 

The greatest work of American literature, artistically 
speaking, Hawthorne's " Scarlet Letter," was thus produced. 
His wife records that during the year that he was writing 
it, he shut himself up in his study every day. She asked 

The Informal Discussion 255 

no questions; he volunteered no information. She only 
knew that something was going on by the knot in his fore- 
head which he carried all that year. At the end of the year 
he came from his study and read over to her the whole 
book ; a work of genius was added to the world. It was 
the fruit of solitude. 

And sometimes solitude, I regret as an author to say, ex- 
tends to the perusal of the book, for I have known at least 
one volume of poems of which not a copy was ever sold ; 
and I know another of which only one copy was sold through 
my betraying the secret of the author and mentioning the 
book to a classmate, who bought that one copy. 

Therefore, in a general way, we may say that literature 
speaks in a manner the voice of solitude. As soon as the 
spoken word comes in, you have companionship. There 
can be no speech without at least one person present, if 
it is only the janitor of the church. Dean Swift in reading 
the Church of England service to his manservant only, 
adapted the service as follows: "Dearly beloved Roger, 
the Scripture moveth thee and me in stmdry places," etc. ; 
but in that very economy of speech he realized the pres- 
ence of an audience. It takes ,a speaker and an audience 
together to make a speech — I can say to you what I could 
not first have said to myself. " The sea of upturned faces," 
as Daniel Webster said, borrowing the phrase, however, from 
Scott's "Rob Roy" — "the sea of upturned faces makes 
half the speech." And therefore we may assume that there 
will always be this form of communication. It has, both 
for the speaker and for the audience, this one vast ad- 

256 Public Speaking 


From " Girls and Education," by permission of, and by special arrange- 
ment with, Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of this 
author's works 

By Le Baron Russell Briggs 

I doubt whether any one has told more effectively what a 
college may do for a girl's mind than Dr. Thomas Fuller. 
In his " Chiirch History of Britain," he gives a short chapter 
to "The Conveniency of She-CoUeges." (I once quoted this 
chapter at Smith College, and was accused of making it up.) 
"Nunneries also," he observes, "were good She-Schools, 
wherein the girls and maids of the neighborhood were taught 
to read and work ; and sometimes a little Latin was taught 
them therein. Yea, give me leave to say, if such feminine 
foundations had still continued, haply the weaker sex might 
be heightened to a higher perfection than hitherto hath been 
attained. That sharpness of their wits, and suddenness of 
their conceits, which their enemies must allow unto them, 
might by education be improved into a judicious solidity." 

The feminine mind, with its quick intuitions and tmsteady 
logic, may keep the intuitions and gain a firmness which 
makes it more than transiently stimulating. The emotional 
mind has its charm, especially if its emotions are favorable 
to ourselves. 

In some things it may be well that emotion is greater 
than logic ; but emotion in logic is sad to contend with, sad 
even to contemplate — and such is too often the reasoning 
of the tintrained woman. Do not for a moment suppose 
that I believe such reasoning peculiar to women ; but from 
the best men it has been in great measure trained out. 

In a right-minded, soimd-hearted girl, college training 
tends toward control of the nervous system ; and control of 

The Informal Discussion 257' 

the nervous system — making it servant and not master — 
is almost the supreme need of women. Without such con- 
trol they become helpless; with it they know scarcely a 
hmit to their efficiency. The world does not yet xmder- 
stand that for the finest and highest work it looks and must 
look to the naturally sensitive, whether women or men. I 
remember expressing to the late Professor Greenough regret 
that a certain young teacher was nervous. His answer 
has been a comfort to me ever since. "I wouldn't give 
ten cents for any one who isn't." The nervous man or 
woman is bound to suffer ; but the nervous man or woman 
may rise to heights that the naturally calm can never reach 
and can seldom see. To whom do you go for coimsel? 
To the calm, no doubt ; but never to the phlegmatic — never 
to the calm who are calm because they know no better (like 
the man in Ruskin " to whom the primrose is very accurately 
the primrose because he does not love it"). You go to the 
calm who have fought for their calmness, who have known 
what it is to quiver in every nerve, but have put through 
whatever they have taken in hand. 

There are nimiberless sweet and patient women who 
never studied beyond the curriculum of the district school, 
women who help every one near them by their own imselfish 
loveliness; but the intelligently patient, the women who 
can put themselves into the places of all sorts of people, 
who can S3Tnpathize not merely with great and manifest 
griefs, but with every delicate jarring of the human soul — 
hardest of aU, with the ambitions of the dull — these wo- 
men, who must command a respect intellectual as well as 
moral, reach their highest efficiency through experience 
based on college training. 

258 Public Speaking 

College life, designed as it is to strengthen a girl's intel- 
lect and character, shoiild teach her to understand better, 
and not worse, herself as distinguished from other beings of 
her own sex or the opposite, should fortify her individuality, 
her power of resisting, and her determination to resist, the 
contagion of the unwomanly. Exaggerated study may 
lessen womanly charm ; but there is nothing loud or mascu- 
line about it. Nor should we judge mental training or 
anything else by scattered cases of its abuse. The only 
characteristics of women that the sensible college girl has 
lost are feminine frivolity, and that kind of headless in- 
accuracy in thought and speech which once withheld from 
the sex — or from a large part of it — the intellectual re- 
spect of educated men. 

At college, if you have lived rightly, you have foxmd 
enough learning to make you hiunble, enough friendship to 
make your hearts large and warm, enough culture to teach 
you the refinement of simplicity, enough wisdom to keep 
you sweet in poverty and temperate in wealth. Here you 
have learned to see great and small in their true relation, 
to look at both sides of a question, to respect the point of 
view of every honest man or woman, and to recognize the 
point of view that differs most widely from your own. 
Here you have foimd the democracy that excludes neither 
poor nor rich, and the quick sympathy that listens to all 
and helps by the very listening. Here too, it may be at 
the end of a long struggle, you have seen — if only in tran- 
sient glimpses — that after doubt comes reverence, after 
anxiety peace, after faintness courage, and that out of weak- 
ness we are made strong. Suffer these ghmpses to become 
an abiding vision, and you have the supreme joy of life. 

The Informal Discussion 259 


From an address to the students of Harvard University, 1885. Published 
in " The Drama ; Addresses by Henry Irving,'' William Heinemann, 
London, publisher, 1893 

By Henry Irving 

What is the art of acting? I speak of it in its highest 
sense, as the art to which Roscius, Betterton, and Garrick 
owed their fame. It is the art of embodying the poet's 
creations, of giving them flesh and blood, of making the 
figures which appeal to your mind's eye in the printed 
drama live before you on the stage. " To fathom the depths 
of character, to trace its latent motives, to feel its finest 
quiverings of emotion, to comprehend the thoughts that 
are hidden under words, and thus possess one's self of the 
actual mind of the individual man " — such was Macready's 
definition of the player's art ; and to this we may add the 
testimony of Talma. He describes tragic acting as "the 
union of grandeur without pomp and nature without trivial- 
ity." It demands, he says, the endowment of high sensi- 
bility and intelligence. 

You will readily understand from this that to the actor 
the well-worn maxim that art is long and life is short has a 
constant significance. The older we grow the more acutely 
alive we are to the difficulties of our craft. I cannot give 
you a better illustration of this fact than a story which is 
told of Macready. A friend of mine, once a dear friend of 
his, was with him when he played Hamlet for the last time. 
The curtain had fallen, and the great actor was sadly thinking 
that the part he loved so much wovdd never be his again. 
And as he took off his velvet mantle and laid it aside, 
he muttered almost unconsciously the words of Horatio, 

260 Public Speaking 

"Good-night, sweet Prince" then turning to his friend, 
" Ah," said he, " I am just beginning to realise the sweetness, 
the tenderness, the gentleness of this dear Hamlet !" Be- 
lieve me, the true artist never lingers fondly upon what he 
has done. He is ever thinking of what remains undone : ever 
striving toward an ideal it may never be his fortime to attain. 

It is often supposed that great actors trust to the inspira- 
tion' of the moment. Nothing can be more erroneous. 
There will, of course, be such moments, when an actor at a 
white heat illumines some passage with a flash of imagina- 
tion (and this mental condition, by the way, is impossible 
to the student sitting in his armchair) ; but the great actor's 
surprises are generally well weighed, studied, and balanced. 
We know that Edmund Kean constantly practiced before a 
mirror efifects which startled his audience by their apparent 
spontaneity. It is the accumulation of such effects which 
enables an actor, after many years, to present many great 
characters with remarkable completeness. 

I do not want to overstate the case, or to appeal to any- 
thing that is not within common experience, so I can confi- 
dently ask you whether a scene in a great play has not been 
at some time vividly impressed on your minds by the de- 
livery of a single line, or even of one forcible word. Has not 
this made the passage far more real and human to you than 
all the thought you have devoted to it ? An accomplished 
critic has said that Shakespeare himself might have been 
surprised had he heard the "Fool, fool, fool !" of Edmund 
Kean. And though all actors are not Keans, they have in 
varying degree this power of making a dramatic character 
step out of the page, and come nearer to our hearts and our 

The Informal Discussion 261 

After all, the best and most convincing exposition of the 
whole art of acting is given by Shakespeare himself : "To 
hold, as 'twere, the mirror up to nature, to show virtue her 
own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and 
body of the time his form and pressure." Thus the poet 
recognized the actor's art as a most potent ally in the repre- 
sentation of human life. He believed that to hold the mirror 
up to nature was one of the worthiest fimctions in the sphere 
of labor, and actors are content to point to his definition of 
their work as the charter of their privileges. 


From " The Harvard Graduates Magazine " 

By Charles Wu-liam Eliot 

Just in the last few years we have had a striking illus- 
tration of strong reaction against prevailing educational 
policies. There has come upon us right here on these 
grovmds and among Harvard's constituents, and wide- 
spread over the country as well, a distrust of freedom for 
students, of freedom for citizens, of freedom for backward 
races of men. This is one of the striking phenomena of 
our day, a distrust of freedom. 

Now, there is no moment in life when there comes a 
greater sudden access of freedom than this moment in 
which you find yourselves. When yoimg men come to an 
American college, I care not at all which college — to any 
American college from the parents' home or from school, 
they experience a tremendous access of freedom. Is it an 
injury ? Is it a danger ? Are you afraid of it ? Has so- 
ciety a right to be afraid of it? What is freedom for? 

262 Public Speaking 

What does it do for us ? Does it hurt us or help us ? Do 
we grow in it, or do we shrink in it ? That is quite an im- 
portant question in the management of Harvard University. 
It is the important question in modern government. It is 
pretty clear that when young men or old men are free, they 
make mistakes, and they go wrong ; having freedom to do 
right or wrong, they often do right and they often do wrong. 
When you came hither, you found yourselves in possession 
of a new freedom. You can overeat yourselves, for ex- 
ample ; you can overdrink ; you can take no care for sleep ; 
you can take no exercise or too much; you can do httle 
work or too much; you can indulge in harmful amuse- 
ments : in short, you have a great new freedom here. Is 
it a good thing for you or a bad thing? Clearly you can 
go astray, for the road is not fenced. You can make mis- 
takes ; you can fall into sin. Have you learned to control 
yourselves ? Have you got the will-power in you to regu- 
late your own conduct ? Can you be your own taskmaster ? 
You have been in the habit of looking to parents, perhaps, 
or to teachers, or to the heads of yoiu: boarding schools or 
your day schools for control in all these matters. Have 
you got it in yoiurselves to control yourselves? That is 
the prime question which comes up with regard to every 
one of you when you come to the University. Have you 
the sense and the resolution to regulate your own conduct ? 
It is pretty clear that in other spheres freedom is dan- 
gerous. How is it with free political institutions? Do 
they always jdeld the best government? Look at the 
American cities and compare them with the cities of Europe. 
Clearly, free institutions do not necessarily produce the 
best government. Are then free institutions wrong or in- 

The Informal Discussion 263 

expedient? What is freedom for? Why has God made 
men free, as he has not made the plants and the animals ? 
Is freedom dangerous ? Yes ! but it is necessary to the 
growth of human character, and that is what we are all in 
the world for, and that is what you and your Hke are in 
college for. That is what the world was made for, for the 
occupation of men who in freedom through trial win char- 
acter. It is choice which makes the dignity of himian 
nature. It is habitual choosing after examination, con- 
sideration, reflection, and advice, which makes the man of 
power. It is through the internal motive power of the 
will that men imagine, invent, and thrust thoughts out 
into the obscure beyond, into the future. The will is the 
prime motive power ; and you can only train your wills, 
in freedom. That is what freedom is for, in school and 
college, in society, industries, and governments. Fine 
human character is the ultimate object, and freedom is the 
indispensable condition of its development. 

Now, there are some clear objects for choice here in col- 
lege, for real choice, for discreet choice. I will mention 
only two. In the first place, choose those studies — there 
is a great range of them here -^ which will, through your 
interest in them, develop your working power. ' You know 
it is only through work that you can achieve anything, 
either in college or in the world. Choose those studies on 
which you can work intensely with pleasure, with real satis- 
faction and happiness. That is the true guide to a wise 
choice. Choose that intellectual pursuit which will de- 
velop within you the power to do enthusiastic work, an 
internal motive power, not an external compulsion. Then 
choose an ennobling companionship. You will find out in 

264 Public Speaking 

five minutes that this man stirs you to good, that man to 
evil. Shim the latter ; cling to the former. Choose com- 
panionship rightly, choose your whole surroundings so that 
they shall lift you up and not drag you down. Make these 
two choices wisely, and be faithful in labor, and you will 
succeed in college and in after life. 


From " Alfred Lord Tennyson, A Memoir by His Son," with the permission 
of The Macmillan Company, New York and London, publishers 

Before leaving for Aldworth we spent some delightful 
simny days in the Farringford gardens. In the afternoons 
my father sat in his summerhouse and talked to us and 
his friends. 

This spring he had enjoyed seeing the unusually splendid 
blossom of apple and pear tree, of white lilacs, and of purple 
aubretia that bordered the walks. 

At intervals he strolled to the bottom of the kitchen gar- 
den to look at the roses, or at the giant fig tree ("like a 
breaking wave," as he said) bursting into leaf ; or he marked 
the "branching grace" of the stately line of elms, between 
the boles of which, from his summerhouse, he caught a 
glimpse of far meadows beyond. He said that he did not 
believe in Emerson's pretty lines: — 

"Only to children children sing, 
Only to youth the Spring is Spring." 

"For age does feel the joy of spring, though age can only 
crawl over the bridge while youth skips the brook." His 
talk was grave and gay together. In the middle of anec- 
dotes he would stop short and say something of what he 
felt to be the sadness and mystery of life. 

What impressed all his friends was his choice of language, 

The Informal Discussion 265 

the felicity of his turns of expression, his imagery, the terse- 
ness of his unadorned English, and his simple directness of 
manner, which none will ever be able to reproduce, however 
many notes they may have taken. His dignity and repose 
of manner, his low musical voice, and the power of his mag- 
netic dark eye kept the attention riveted. His argument 
was clear and logical and never wandered from the point 
except by way of illustration, and his illustrations were the 
most various I have ever heard, and were taken from nature 
and science, from high and low life, from the rich and from 
the poor, and his analysis of character was always subtle 
and powerful. 

While he talked of the mysteries of the universe, his face, 
fuU of the strong lines of thought, was lighted up ; and his 
words glowed as it were with inspiration. 

When conversing with my brother and myself or our col- 
lege friends, he was, I used to think, almost at his best, for he 
would quote us the fine passages from ancient or modern 
literature and show us why they are fine, or he would tell 
us about the great facts and discoveries in astronomy, geol- 
ogy, botany, chemistry, and the great problems in philos- 
ophy, helping us toward a higher conception of the laws 
which govern the world and of "the law behind the law." 
He was so sympathetic that the enthusiasm of youth seemed 
to kindle his own. He spoke out of the fullness of his heart, 
and explained more eloquently than ever where his own diffi- 
culties lay, and what he, as an old man, thought was the 
true mainspring of human life and action ; and 

" How much of act at human hands 
The sense of human will demands 
By which we dare to live or die." 

266 Public Speaking 

The truth is that real genius, unless made shallow by 
prejudice, is seldom frozen by age, and that, until absolute 
physical decay sets in, the powers of the mind may become 
stronger and stronger. 

On one of these June mornings, Miss L , who was a 

stranger to us, but whose brother we had known for some 
time, called upon us. My father took her over the bridge 
to the summerhouse looking on the Down. After a little 

while he said : "Miss L , my son says I am to read to 

you," and added, "I will read whatever you like." He 
read some of "Maud," "The Spinster's Sweet-Arts," and 
some "Enoch Arden." 

His voice, as Miss L noticed, was melodious and full 

of change, and quite imimpaired by age. There was a 
peculiar freshness and passion in his reading of "Maud," 
giving the impression that he had just written the poem, and 
that the emotion which created it was fresh in him. This 
had an extraordinary influence on the listener, who felt 
that the reader had been present at the scenes he described, 
and that he still felt their bliss or agony. 

He thoroughly enjoyed reading his "The Spinster's 

Sweet-Arts," and when he was reading "Enoch Arden" he 

told Miss L to listen to the sound of the sea in the line, 

"The league-long roller thundering on the reef," 

and to mark Miriam Lane's chatter in 

" He ceased ; and Miriam Lane 
Made such a voluble answer promising all." 

The Informal Discussion 267 


From " Notes on Speech-Making," with the permission of Longmans, 
Green and Company, New York and London, publishers 

By Brander Matthews 

We are told that the five-minute speeches with which 
Judge Hoar year after year dehghted the Harvard chapter 
of the Phi Beta Kappa contained but one original idea, 
clearly stated, and but one fresh story, well told. This is 
indeed a model to be admired of all men; yet how few of 
us will take the trouble of copying it ! 

The speaker who rambles and ambles along, sajdng noth- 
ing, and his fellow, the speaker who Unks jest to jest, saying 
Uttle more, are both of them unabashed in the presence of 
an audience. They are devoid of all shyness. They are 
well aware that they have "the gift of the gab" ; they re- 
joice in its possession ; they He in wait for occasions to dis- 
play it. They have helped to give foreigners the impres- 
sion that every American is an oratorical revolver, ready 
with a few remarks whenever any chairman may choose to 
pull the trigger. And yet there are Americans not a few 
to whom the making of an after-dinner speech is a most 
painful ordeal. When the pubUc dinner was given to 
Charles Dickens in New York, on his first visit to America, 
Washington Irving was obviously the predestined presiding 
officer. Curtis tells us that Irving went about muttering : 
" I shall certainly break down ; I know I shall break down." 
When the dinner was eaten, and Irving arose to propose the 
health of Dickens, he began pleasantly and smoothly in 
two or three sentences ; then hesitated, stammered, smiled, 
and stopped ; tried in vain to begin again ; then gracefully 
gave it up, announced the toast, "Charles Dickens, the 

268 Public Speaking 

guest of the nation," and sank into his chair amid immense 
applause, whispering to his neighbor, "There ! I told 
you I should break down, and I've done it." 

When Thackeray came, later, Irving "consented to pre- 
side at a dinner, if speeches were absolutely forbidden ; the 
condition was faithfully observed" (so Curtis records), 
"but it was the most extraordinary instance of American 
self-command on record." Thackeray himself had no 
fondness for after-dinner speaking, nor any great skiU in the 
art. He used to complain humorously that he never could 
remember all the good things he had thought of in the cab ; 
and in "Philip" he went so far as to express a hope that "a 
day will soon arrive (but I own, mind you, that I do not 
carve well) when we shall have the speeches done by a skilled 
waiter at a side table, as we now have the carving." 

Hawthorne was as uncomfortable on his feet as were 
Thackeray and Irving ; but his resolute will steeled him for 
the trial. When he dined with the Mayor of Liverpool, he 
was called upon for the toast of the United States. "Being 
at bay, and with no alternative, I got upon my legs and made 
a response," he wrote in his notebook, appending this com- 
ment: "Anybody may make an after-dinner speech who 
will be content to talk onward without saying anything. 
My speech was not more than two or three inches long; 
. . . but, being once started, I felt no embarassment, and 
went through it as coolly as if I were going to be hanged." 

He also notes that his little speech was quite successful, 
"considering that I did not know a soul there, except the 
Mayor himself, and that I am wholly unpracticed in all 
sorts of oratory, and that I had nothing to say." To each 
of these three considerations of Hawthorne's it would be 

The Informal Discussion 269 

instructive to add a comment, for he spoke under a triple 
disadvantage. A speech cannot really be successful when 
the speaker has nothing to say. It is rarely successful un- 
less he knows the tastes and the temper of those he is ad- 
dressing. It can be successful only casually unless he has 
had some practice in the simpler sort of oratory. 


From " Hunting the Grizzly " with the permission of G. P. Putnam's Sons, 
New York and London, publishers 

By Theodore Roosevelt 

For half a mile I walked quickly and silently over the 
pine needles, across a succession of slight ridges separated 
by narrow, shallow valleys. The forest here was composed 
of lodge-pole pines, which on the ridges grew close together, 
with tall slender trunks, while in the valleys the growth 
was more open. Though the sun was behind the moun- 
tains, there was yet plenty of light by which to shoot, but 
it faded rapidly. 

At last, as I was thinking of turning toward camp, I stole 
up to the crest of one of the ridges, and looked over into the 
valley some sixty yards off. Immediately I caught the 
loom of some large, dark object ; and another glance showed 
me a big grizzly walking slowly off with his head down. He 
was quartering to me, and I fired into his flank, the bullet, 
as I afterward found, ranging forward and piercing one limg. 
At the shot he uttered a loud, moaning grunt and plunged 
forward at a heavy gallop, while I raced obliquely down the 
hill to cut him off. After going a few hundred feet, he 
reached a laurel thicket, some thirty yards broad, and two 
or three times as long, which he did not leave. I ran up to 

270 Public Speaking 

the edge and there halted, not liking to venture into the 
mass of twisted, close-growing stems and glossy foliage. 
Moreover, as I halted, I heard him utter a peculiar, savage 
kind of whine from the heart of the brush. Accordingly, 
I began to skirt the edge, standing on tiptoe and gazing 
earnestly to see if I could not Catch a glimpse of his hide. 
When I was at the narrowest part of the thicket, he sud- 
denly left it directly opposite, and then wheeled and stood 
broadside to me on the hillside, a little above. He turned 
his head stifHy toward me; scarlet strings of froth hung 
from his Kps ; his eyes burned like embers in the gloom. 

I held true, aiming at the shoulder, and my bullet shat- 
tered the point or lower end of his heart, taking out a big 
nick. Instantly the great bear turned with a harsh roar 
of fury and challenge, blowing the bloody foam from his 
mouth, so that I saw the gleam of his white fangs ; and then 
he charged straight at me, crashing and bounding through 
the laurel bushes, so that it was hard to aim. I waited till 
he came to a fallen tree, raking him as he topped it with a 
ball, which entered his chest and went through the cavity 
of his body, but he neither swerved nor flinched, and at the 
moment I did not know that I had struck him. He came 
steadily on, and in another second was almost upon me. I 
fired for his forehead, but my bullet went low, entering his 
open mouth, smashing his lower jaw and going into the 
neck. I leaped to one side almost as I pulled the trigger ; 
and through the hanging smoke the first thing I saw was his 
paw as he made a vicious side blow at me. The rush of his 
charge carried him past. As he struck he lurched forward, 
leaving a pool of bright blood where his muzzle hit the 
ground; but he recovered himself and made two or three 

The Informal Discussion 271 

jumps onward, while I hurriedly jammed a couple of cart- 
ridges into the magazine, my rifle holding only four, all of 
which I had fired. Then he tried to pull up, but as he did 
so his muscles seemed suddenly to give way, his head 
dropped, and he rolled over and over like a shot rabbit. 
Each of my first three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound. 
It was already twilight, and I merely opened the carcass, 
and then trotted back to camp. Next morning I returned 
and with much labor took off the skin. The fur was very 
fine, the animal being in excellent trim, and imusuaUy 
bright colored. Unfortunately, in packing it out I lost 
the skuU, and had to supply its place with one of plaster. 
The beauty of the trophy,- and the memory of the circum- 
stances under which I produced it, make me value it per- 
haps more highly than any other in my house. 


Debates and Campaign Speeches 


Speech of George F. Hoar 

A famous orator once imagined the nations of the world 
uniting to erect a column to Jurisprudence in some stately 
capital. Each country was to bring the name of its great 
jurist to be inscribed on the side of the column, with a 
sentence stating what he and his country through him had 
done toward establishing the reign of law and justice for 
the benefit of mankind. 

I have sometimes fancied that we might erect here in the 
capital of the country a column to American Liberty which 
alone might rival in height the beautifiil and simple shaft 
which we have erected to the fame of the Father of the Coun- 
try. I can fancy each generation bringing its inscription, 
which should recite its own contribution to the great struc- 
ture of which the column should be but the symbol. 

The generation of the Puritan and the Pilgrim and the 
Huguenot claims the place of honor at the base. "I 
brought the torch of freedom across the sea. I cleared the 
forest. I subdued the savage and the wild beast. I laid 
in Christian Hberty and law the foundations of empire." 

The next generation says: "What my fathers founded 
I builded. I left the seashore to penetrate the wilderness. 
I planted schools and colleges and churches." 


Argument and Persuasion 273 

Then comes the generation of the great colonial day: 
"I stood by the side of England on many a hard-fought 
field. I helped humble the power of France." 

Then comes the generation of the revolutionary time: 
"I encountered the power of England. I declared and won 
the independence of my country. I placed that declaration 
on the eternal principles of justice and righteousness which 
all mankind have read, and on which all mankind will one 
day stand. I afi&rmed the dignity of human nature and 
the right of the people to govern themselves." 

The next generation says: "I encountered England 
again. I vindicated the right of an American ship to sail 
the seas the wide world over without molestation. I made 
the American sailor as safe at the ends of the earth as my 
fathers had made the American farmer safe in his home." 

Then comes the next generation : "I did the mighty 
deeds which in your younger years you saw and which your 
fathers told. I saved the Union. I freed the slave. I 
made of every slave a freeman, and of every freeman a 
citizen, and of every citizen a voter." 

Then comes another who did the great work in peace, in 
which so many of you had an honorable share : "I kept the 
faith. I paid the debt. I brought in conciliation and peace 
instead of war. I built up our vast domestic commerce. 
I made my country the richest, freest, strongest, happiest 
people on the face of the earth." 

And now what have we to say ? What have we to say ? 
Are we to have a place in that honorable company ? Must 
we engrave on that column: "We repealed the Declara- 
tion of Independence. We changed the Munroe Doctrine 
from a doctrine of eternal righteousness and justice, rest- 

274 Public Speaking 

ing on the consent of the governed, to a doctrine of brutal 
selfishness, looking only to our own advantage. We crushed 
the only republic in Asia. We made war on the only Chris- 
tian people in the East. We converted a war of glory into 
a war of shame. We vizlgarized the American flag. We 
introduced perfidy into the practice of war. We inflicted 
torture on imarmed men to extort confession. We put 
children to death. We estabhshed reconcentrado camps. 
We devastated provinces. We baffled the aspirations of a 
people for hberty ' ? 

No, Mr. President. Never ! Never ! Other and better 
coimsels will yet prevail. The hours are long in the life of 
a great people. The irrevocable step is not yet taken. 

Let us at least have this to say : "We, too, have kept the 
faith of the fathers. We took Cuba by the hand. We 
dehvered her from her age-long bondage. We welcomed 
her to the family of nations. We set mankind an example 
never beheld before of moderation in victory. We led 
hesitating and halting Europe to the dehverance of their 
beleaguered ambassadors in China. We marched through 
a hostile country — a country cruel and barbarous — with- 
out anger or revenge. We returned benefit for injury, and 
pity for cruelty. We made the name of America beloved 
in the East as in the West. We kept faith with the PhiUp- 
pine people. We kept faith with our own history. We kept 
our national honor imsullied. The flag which we received 
without a rent we handed down without a stain." 

Speech of William McKinley 

I do not know why in the year 1899 this Republic has 
unexpectedly had placed before it mighty problems which 

Argument and Persuasion 275 

it must face and meet. They have come and are here, and 
they could not be kept away. We have fought a war with 

The Philippines, Uke Cuba and Porto Rico, were intrusted 
to our hands by the war, and to that great trust,' under the 
Providence of God and in the name of himian progress and 
civilization, we are committed. It is a trust we have not 
sought; it is a trust from which we will not flinch. The 
American people will hold up the hands of their servants 
at home to whom they commit its execution, while Dewey 
and Otis and the brave men whom they command will have 
the support of the coimtry in upholding our flag where it 
now floats, the symbol and assurance of liberty and jus- 

There is imiversal agreement that the Philippines shall 
not be turned back to Spain. No true American consents 
to that. Even if unwilling to accept them ourselves, it 
would have been a weak evasion of manly duty to require 
Spain to transfer them to someother power or powers, and 
thus shirk our own responsibility. Even if we had had, as 
we did not have, the power to compel such a transfer, it 
could not have been made without the most serious inter- 
national compUcations. Such a course could not be thought 
of. And yet had we refused to accept the cession of them, 
we should have had no power over them even for their 
own good. 

We could not discharge the responsibilities upon us until 
these islands became ours, either by conquest or treaty. 
There was but one alternative, and that was either Spain 
or the United States in the Philippines. The other sug- 
gestions — first, that they should be tossed into the arena 

276 Public Speaking 

of contention for the strife of nations; or, second, be left 
to the anarchy and chaos of no protectorate at all — were 
too shameful to be considered. 

The treaty gave them to the United States. Could we 
have required less and done our duty? Could we, after 
freeing the Filipinos from the domination of Spain, have 
left them without government and without power to pro- 
tect life or property or to perform the international obli- 
gations essential to an independent state ? Could we have 
left them in a state of anarchy and justified ourselves in 
our own consciences or before the tribunal of mankind? 
Could we have done that in the sight of God or man ? 

No imperial designs lurk in the American mind. They 
are alien to American sentiment, thought, and purpose. 
Our priceless principles undergo no change under a tropical 
sun. They go with the flag. They are wrought in every 
one of its sacred folds, and are indistinguishable as its shin- 
ing stars. 

"Why read ye not the changeless truth, 
The free can conquer but to save?" 

If we can benefit these remote peoples, who will object ? 
If in the years of the future they are estabUshed in govern- 
ment under law and liberty, who will regret our perils and 
sacrifices? Who will not rejoice in our heroism and hu-" 
manity? Always perils, and always after them safety; 
always darkness and clouds, but always shining through 
them the light and the simshine ; always cost and sacrifice, 
but always after them the fruition of liberty, education, 
and civilization. 

I have no light or knowledge not common to my country- 
men. I do not prophesy. The present is all-absorbing 

Argument and Persuasion 277 

to me, but I cannot bound my vision by the blood-stained 
trenches around Manila, where every red drop, whether 
from the veins of an American soldier or a misguided Fili- 
pino, is anguish to my heart; but by the broad range of 
future years, when that group of islands, under the impulse 
of the year just past, shall have become the gems and glories 
of those tropical seas; a land of plenty and of increasing 
possibilities ; a people redeemed from savage indolence and 
habits, devoted to the arts of peace, in touch with the com- 
merce and trade of all nations, enjojdng the blessings of 
freedom, of civil and rehgious liberty, of education and of 
homes, and whose children and children's children shall for 
ages hence bless the American Republic because it eman- 
cipated and redeemed their fatherland and set them in the 
pathway of the world's best civilization. 

Speech of Thomas B. Reed 

Whether the universal sentiment in favor of protection 
as applied to every country is sound or not, I do not stop 
to discuss. Whether it is best for the United States of 
America alone concerns me now, and the first thing I have 
to say is, that after thirty years of protection, undisturbed by 
any menace of free trade, up to the very year now last past, 
this country was the greatest and most flourishing nation on 
the face of this earth. Moreover, with the shadow of this tin- 
justifiable bill resting cold upon it, with mills closed, with hun- 
dreds of thousands of men unemployed, industry at a stand- 
still, and prospects before it more gloomy than ever marked 
its history — except once — this country is still the greatest 
and the richest that the sim shines on, or ever did shine on. 

278 Public Speaking 

According to the usual story that is told, England had 
been engaged with a long and vain struggle with the demon 
of protection, and had been year after year sinking farther 
into the depths vintil at a moment when she was in her dis- 
tress and saddest plight, her manufacturing system broke 
down, "protection, having destroyed home trade by re- 
ducing," as Mr. Atkinson says, "the entire population to 
beggary, destitution, and want." Mr. Cobden and his 
friends providentially appeared, and after a hard struggle 
estabUshed a principle for aU time and for all the world, 
and straightway England enjoyed the sum of human hap- 
piness. Hence all good nations should do as England has 
done and be happy ever after. 

Suppose England, instead of being a little island in the 
sea, had been the half of a great continent full of raw ma- 
terial, capable of an internal commerce which would rival 
the commerce of all the rest of the world. 

Suppose every year new millions were flocking to her 
shores, and every one of those new millions in a few years, 
as soon as they tasted the deHghts of a broader life, would 
become as great a consumer as any one of her own people. 

Suppose that these millions, and the 70,000,000 already 
gathered imder the folds of her flag, were every year de- 
manding and receiving a higher wage and therefore broad- 
ening her market as fast as her machinery could furnish 
production. Suppose she had produced cheap food be- 
yond all her wants, and that her laborers spent so much 
money that whether wheat was sixty cents a bushel or twice 
that simi hardly entered the thoughts of one of them, except 
when some Democratic tariff bill was paralyzing his busi- 

Argument and Persuasion 279 

Suppose that she was not only but a cannon shot from 
France, but that every country in Europe had been brought 
as near to her as Baltimore is to Washington — for that is 
what cheap ocean freights mean between us and European 
producers. Suppose all those countries had her machinery, 
her skilled workmen, her industrial system, and labor forty 
per cent cheaper. Suppose tinder that state of facts, with 
all her manufacturers proclaiming against it, frantic in 
their disapproval, England had been called upon by Cobden 
to make the plunge into free trade, would she have done it ? 
Not if Cobden had been backed by the angehc host. His- 
tory gives England credit for great sense. 

Speech of Charles F. Crisp 

I assume that the cause of protection has no more able 
advocate than the gentleman from Maine. I assume that 
the argument for protection can be put in no more alluring 
form than that to which we have listened to-day. So as- 
smning, I shall ask you calmly and dispassionately to ex- 
amine with me that argument, to see upon what it is based, 
and then I shall invoke the unprejudiced judgment of this 
House as to whether the cause attempted to be sustained by 
the gentleman from Maine has been sustained, or can be 
before any tribunal where the voice of reason is heard or 
the sense of justice is felt. 

The gentleman from Maine, with a facility that is im- 
equaled, when he encounters an argument which he is 
unable to answer passes it by with some bright and witty 
saying and thereby invites and receives the applause of 
those who believe as he does. But the gentleman does not 
attempt, the gentleman has not to-day attempted, to reply 

280 Public Speaking 

to the real arguments that are made in favor of freer trade 
and greater liberty of commerce. 

The gentleman points to the progress of the United States, 
he points to the rate of wages in the United States, he points 
to the aggregated wealth of the United States, and claims 
all this is due to protection. But he does not explain how 
we owe these blessings to protection. He says, we have 
protection in the United States, wages are high in the United 
States; therefore protection makes high wages. 

When we ask the gentleman from Maine to give us a 
reason why a high protective tariff increases the rate of 
wages he points to the glory, the prosperity, and the honor 
of our country. We on this side unite with him in every 
sentiment, in every purpose, in every effort that has for 
its object the advancement of the general welfare of the 
people of the United States, but we differ from him as to the 
method of promoting their welfare. The gentleman be- 
longs to that school who beheve that scarcity is a blessing, 
and that abundance should be prohibited by law. We 
belong to that school who believe that scarcity is a calamity 
to be avoided, and that abxmdance should be, if possible, 
encouraged by law. 

The gentleman belongs to that class who believe that by 
a system of taxation we can make the country rich. He be- 
lieves that it is possible by tax laws to advance the pros- 
perity of aU the industries and all the people in the United 

Either, Mr. Speaker, that statement is an absurdity upon 
its face, or it impHes that in some way we have the power to 
make some persons not resident of the United States pay 
the taxes that we impose. I insist that you do not increase 

Argument and Persuasion 281 

the taxable wealth of the United States when you tax a 
gentleman in Illinois and give the benefit of that tax to a 
gentleman in Maine. Such a course prevents the natural 
and honest distribution of wealth, but it does not create or 
augment it. 


Delivered in the United States Senate, January, 1830 

By Robert Y. Hayne 

The gentleman has made a great flourish about his fidel- 
ity to Massachusetts. I shall make no profession of zeal 
for the interests and honor of South CaroHna ; of that my 
constituents shall Judge. If there be one State in the 
Union, Mr. President (and I say it not in a boastful spirit), 
that may challenge comparison with any other for a uni- 
form, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating devotion to the 
Union, that State is South CaroHna. Sir, from the very 
commencement of the Revolution up to this hour there is 
no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheerfully made, 
no service she has ever hesitated to perform. She has 
adhered to you in your prosperity ; but in your adversity 
she has clung to you with more than filial affection. No 
matter what was the condition of her domestic affairs, 
though deprived of her resources, divided by parties, or 
surrounded with difficulties, the call of the country has been 
to her as the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased at 
the sound; every man became at once reconciled to his 
brethren, and the sons of Carolina were all seen crowding 
together to the temple, bringing their gifts to the altar of 
their common country. 

What, sir, was the conduct of the South during the 

282 Public Speaking 

Revolution ? Sir, I honor New England for her conduct 
in that glorious struggle. But great as is the praise which 
belongs to her, I think at least equal honor is due to the 
South. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with 
a generous zeal, which did not suffer them to stop to cal- 
culate their interest in the dispute. Favorites of the 
mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to 
create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in 
their situation a guaranty that their trade would be forever 
fostered and protected by Great Britain. But, trampling 
on all considerations either of interest or of safety, they 
rushed into the conflict, and, fighting for principle, periled 
all in the sacred cause of freedom. Never were there 
exhibited in the history of the world higher examples of 
noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance than 
by the Whigs of Carolina during the Revolution. The 
whole State, from the mountains to the sea, was overrun 
by an overwhelming force of the enemy. The fruits of 
industry perished on the spot where they were produced, or 
were consumed by the foe. The "plains of Carolina" 
drank up the most precious blood of her citizens. Black 
and smoking ruins marked the places where had been the 
habitations of her children. Driven from their homes into 
the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there 
the spirit of liberty survived, and South Carolina (sus- 
tained by the example of her Sumters and her Marions) 
proved by her conduct that, though her soil might be over- 
run, the spirit of her people was invincible. 

Argument and Persuasion 283 

Reply by Daniel Webster 

The eulogium pronounced by the honorable gentleman 
on the character of the State of South Carolina for her 
Revolutionary and other merits meets my hearty con- 
currence. I shall not acknowledge that the honorable 
member goes before me in regard for whatever of distin- 
guished talent, or distinguished character, South Carolina 
has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the 
pride, of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, 
one and all, — the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, 
the Sumters, the Marions, Americans all, whose fame is 
no more to be hemmed in by State hues than their talents 
and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within 
the same narrow limits. In their day and generation they 
served and honored the country, and the whole country; 
and their renown is of the treasures of the whole country. 
Him whose honored name the gentleman himself bears, — 
does he esteem me less capable of gratitude for his patriot- 
ism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first 
opened upon the hght of Massachusetts instead of South 
Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it in his power to exhibit 
a Carolina name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom ? 
No, sir, increased gratification and delight, rather. I 
thank God that, if I am gifted with little of the spirit which 
is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I 
trust, of that other spirit which would drag angels down. 
When I shall be found, sir, in my place here in the Senate 
or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit because it happens to 
spring up beyond the little limits of my own State or neigh- 
borhood ; when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any 
cause, the homage due to American talent, to elevated 

284 Public Speaking 

patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; 
or, if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven, if I see 
extraordinary capacity and virtue in any son of the South, 
and if, moved by local prejudice or gangrened by State 
Jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his 
just character and just fame, — may my tongue cleave to 
the roof of my mouth ! 

Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections ; let me indulge 
in refreshing remembrance of the past ; let me remind you 
that, in early times, no States cherished greater harmony, 
both of principle and feehng, than Massachusetts and 
South Carolina. Would to God that harmony might again 
return ! Shoulder to shoulder they went through the 
Revolution ; hand in hand they stood round the administra- 
tion of Washington, and felt his own great arm lean on them 
for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation and dis- 
trust, are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of false 
principles since sown. They are weeds, the seeds of which 
that same great arm never scattered. 

Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Mas- 
sachusetts; she needs none There she is. Behold her, 
and judge for yourselves. There is her history ; the world 
knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is 
Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; 
and there they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, 
falling in the great struggle for independence, now lie min- 
gled with the soil of every State from New England to 
Georgia ; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where 
American liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth 
was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives in the 
strength of its manhood and full of its original spirit. If 

Argument and Persuasion 285 

discord and party strife shall succeed in separating it from 
that Union by which alone its existence is made sure, — it 
will stand in the end by the side of that cradle in which 
its infancy was rocked, and it will fall at last, if fall it 
must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory and 
on the very spot of its origin. 

By John Hay 

Our platform is before the country. Perhaps it is lack- 
ing in novelty. There is certainly nothing sensational 
about it. Its principles have been tested by eight years 
of splendid success and have received the approval of the 
country. It is in Hne with all our platforms of the past, 
except where prophecy and promise in those days have be- 
come history in these. We stand by the ancient ways which 
have proved good. We come before the country in a 
position which cannot be successfully attacked in front, or 
flank, or rear. What we have done, what we are doing, 
and what we intend to do — on aU three we confidently 
challenge the verdict of the American people. The record 
of fifty years will show whether as a party we are fit to 
govern; the state of our domestic and foreign affairs will 
show whether as a party we have fallen off ; and both to- 
gether will show whether we can be trusted for a while 

I want to say a word to the yoimg men whose political 
life is beginning. Any one entering business would be glad 
of the chance to become one of an established firm with 
years of success behind it, with a wide connection, with un- 
blemished character, with credit founded on a rock. How 

286 Public Speaking 

infinitely brighter the future when the present is so sure, 
the past so glorious ! Everything great done by this coun- 
try in the last fifty years has been done under the auspices 
of the Republican Party. Is not this consciousness a great 
asset to have in your mind and memory ? As a mere item 
of personal comfort is it not worth having ? Lincoln and 
Grant, Hayes and Garfield, Harrison and McKinley — 
names secure in the heaven of fame — they all are gone, 
leaving small estates in worldly goods, but what vast pos- 
sessions in principles, memories, sacred associations ! It 
is a start in life to share that wealth. Who now boasts 
that he opposed Lincoln ? who brags of his voting against 
Grant? though both acts may have been from the best of 
motives. In our form of government there must be two 
parties, and tradition, circumstances, temperament, will 
always create a sufficient opposition. But what yoimg 
man would not rather belong to the party that does things, 
instead of one that opposes them ; to the party that looks 
up, rather than down; to the party of the dawn, rather 
than of the sunset ? For fifty years the Republican Party 
has believed in the country and labored for it in hope and 
joy ; it has reverenced the flag and followed it ; it has car- 
ried it tmder strange skies and planted it on far-receding 
horizons. It has seen the nation grow greater every year 
and more respected ; by just dealing, by intelligent labor, 
by a genius for enterprise, it has seen the coimtry extend its 
intercourse and its influence to regions unknown to our 
fathers. Yet it has never abated one jot or tittle of the 
ancient law imposed on us by our God-fearing ancestors. 
We have fought a good fight, but also we have kept the faith. 
The Constitution of our fathers has been the hght to our 

Argument and Persuasion 287 

feet; our path is, and will ever remain, that of ordered 
progress, of liberty under the law. The country has vastly 
increased, but the great-brained statesmen who preceded 
us provided for infinite growth. The discoveries of science 
have made miraculous additions to our knowledge. But 
we are not daimted by progress ; we are not afraid of the 
hght. The fabric our fathers builded on such sure foimda- 
tions will stand all shocks of fate or fortime. There will 
always be a proud pleasure in looking back on the history 
they made ; but, guided by their example, the coming gen- 
eration has the right to anticipate work not less important, 
days equally memorable to mankind. We who are pass- 
ing off the stage bid you, as the children of Israel encamping 
by the sea were bidden, to Go Forward ; we whose hands 
can no longer hold the flaming torch pass it on to you that 
its clear light may show the truth to the ages that are to 

By Roscoe Conkling 

In obedience to instructions I should never dare to dis- 
regard — expressing, also, my own firm convictions — I 
rise to propose a nomination with which the coimtry and 
the RepubKcan party can grandly win. The election be- 
fore us is to be the Austerlitz of American pohtics. It will 
decide, for many years, whether the coxmtry shall be Re- 
publican or Cossack. The supreme need of the hour is not 
a candidate who can carry Michigan. All Republican 
candidates can do that. The need is not of a candidate who 
is popular in the Territories, because they have no vote. 
The need is of a candidate who can carry doubtful States. 

288 Public Speaking 

Not the doubtful States of the North alone, but doubtful 
States of the South, which we have heard, if I understand 
it aright, ought to take little or no part here, because the 
South has nothing to give, but everything to receive. No, 
gentlemen, the need that presses upon the conscience of 
this Convention is of a candidate who can carry doubtful 
States both North and South. And beHeving that he, 
more surely than any other man, can carry New York 
against any opponent, and can carry not only the North, 
but several States of the South, New York is for Ulysses 
S. Grant. Never defeated in peace or in war, his name is 
the most illustrious borne by living man. 

His services attest his greatness, and the coimtry — nay, 
the world — knows them by heart. His fame was earned 
not alone in things written and said, but by the arduous 
greatness of things done. And perils and emergencies will 
search in vain in the future, as they have searched in vain 
in the past, for any other on whom the nation leans with 
such confidence and trust. Never having had a pohcy to 
enforce against the will of the people, he never betrayed a 
cause or a friend, and the people will never desert nor be- 
tray him. Standing on the highest eminence of human dis- 
tinction, modest, firm, simple, and self-poised, having filled 
all lands with his renown, he has seen not only the high- 
born and the titled, but the poor and the lowly, in the utter- 
most ends of the earth, rise and imcover before him. He 
has studied the needs and the defects of many systems of 
government, and he has returned a better American than 

His integrity, his common-sense, his courage, his im- 
equaled experience, are the qualities offered to his country. 

Argument and Persuasion 289 

The only argument, the only one that the wit of man or the 
stress of politics has devised is one that would have dumb- 
founded Solomon, because he thought there was nothing 
new under the sun. Having tried Grant twice and found 
him faithful, we are told that we must not, even after an 
interval of years, trust him again. My countrymen ! my 
countrymen ! what stultification does not such a fallacy 
involve ! Is this an electioneering juggle, or is it hypoc- 
risy's masquerade ? There is no field of human activity, 
responsibility, or reason, in which rational beings object 
to an agent because he has been weighed in the balance and 
not found wanting. There is, I say, no department of hu- 
man reason in which sane men reject an agent because he has 
had experience making him exceptionally competent and fit. 

This Convention is master of a supreme opportunity. 
It can name the next President. It can make sure of his 
election. It can make sure not only of his election, but of 
his certain and peaceful inauguration. 

Gentlemen, we have only to listen above the din and 
look beyond the dust of an hour to behold the Republican 
party advancing with its ensigns resplendent with illus- 
trious achievements, marching to certain and lasting victory 
with its greatest Marshal at its head. 


From a speech delivered in New York, 1880. Depew's " Library of Oratory," 
E. J. Bowen and Company, New York, publishers 

By Roscoe Conkling 

We are citizens of a republic. We govern ourselves. 
Here no pomp of eager array in chambers of royalty awaits 
the birth of boy or girl to wield an hereditary scepter. 

290 Public Speaking 

We know no scepter save a majority's constitutional will. 
To wield that scepter in equal share is the duty and the 
right, nay, the birthright, of every citizen. The supreme, 
the final, the only peaceful arbiter here, is the ballot box ; 
and in that urn should be gathered and from it should be 
sacredly recorded the conscience, the judgment, the intel- 
ligence of all. The right of free self-government has been 
in all ages the bright dream of oppressed humanity, — the 
sighed-for privilege to which thrones, dynasties, and power 
have so long blocked the way. In the fullness of freedom 
the Repubhc of America is alone in the earth ; alone in its 
grandeur ; alone in its blessings ; alone in its promises and 
possibilities, and therefore alone in the devotion due from 
its citizens. 

The time has come when law, duty, and interest require 
the nation to determine for at least four years its policy 
in many things. Two parties exist ; parties should always 
exist in a government of majorities, and to support and 
strengthen the party which most nearly holds his views is 
among the most laudable, meritorious acts of an American 
citizen; and this whether he be in official or in private 
station. Two parties contend for the management of 
national affairs. The question is. Which of the two is it 
safer and wiser to trust? It is not a question of candi- 
dates. A candidate, if he be an honest, genuine man, will 
not seek and accept a party nomination to the presidency, 
vice presidency, or Congress, and after he is elected be- 
come a law unto himself. The higher obligations among 
men are not set down in writing and signed or sealed; 
they reside in honor and good faith. The fidelity of a 
nominee belongs to this exalted class, and therefore the 

Argument and Persuasion 291 

candidate of a party is but the exponent of a party. The 
object of political discussion and action is to settle prin- 
ciples, policies, and issues. It is a paltry incident of an 
election affecting fifty million people that it decides for an 
occasion the aspirations of individual men. The Demo- 
cratic party is the Democratic candidate, and I am against 
the ticket and all its works. 

A triumphant nationality — a regenerated constitution 
— a free Republic — an unbroken coimtry — untarnished 
credit — solvent finances — unparalleled prosperity — all 
these are ours despite the policy and the efforts of the 
Democratic party. Along with the amazing improvement 
in national finances, we have amazing individual thrift on 
every side. In every walk of life new activity is felt. 
Labor, agriculture, manufactures, commerce, enterprises, 
and investments, all are flourishing, content and hopeful. 
But in the midst of this harmony and encouragement 
comes a harsh discord crying, " Give us a change — any- 
thing for a change." This is not a bearing year for "a 
change." Every other crop is good, but not the crop of 
"change" — that crop is good only when the rest are bad. 
The country does not need nor wish the change proposed, 
and to the pressing invitation of our Democratic friends 
a good-natured but firm "No, I thank you," will be the 
response at the polls. 

Upon its record and its candidates the Republican party 
asks the country's approval, and stands ready to avow its 
purposes for the future. It proposes to rebuild our com- 
mercial marine. It proposes to foster labor, industry, and 
enterprise. It proposes to stand for education, humanity, 
and progress. It proposes to administer the government 

292 Public Speaking 

honestly, to preserve amity with all the world, observing 
our own obligations with others and seeing that others 
observe theirs with us, to protect every citizen in his rights 
and equality before the law, to uphold the public credit 
and the sanctity of engagements; and by doing these 
things the Republican party proposes to assure to industry, 
humanity, and civiKzation in America the amplest wel- 
come and the safest home. 


From a speech nominating a candidate for President of the United States 
at the Republican National Convention, 1880 

By James A. Garfield 

I have witnessed the extraordinary scenes of this Conven- 
tion with deep solicitude. Nothing touches my heart 
more quickly than a tribute of honor to a great and noble 
character ; but as I sat in my seat and witnessed this demon- 
stration, this assemblage seemed to me a human ocean in 
tempest. I have seen the sea lashed into fury and tossed 
into spray, and its grandeur moves the soul of the dullest 
man ; but I remember that it is not the billows, but the calm 
level of the sea, from which all heights and depths are 
measured. When the storm has passed and the hour of calm 
settles on the ocean, when the sunlight bathes its peaceful 
surface, then the astronomer and surveyor take the level 
from which they measure all terrestrial heights and depths. 

Gentlemen of the Convention, your present temper 
may not mark the healthful pulse of our people. Not here, 
in this brilliant circle, where fifteen thousand men and 
women are gathered, is the destiny of the Republic to be 
decreed for the next four years. Not here, where I see the 

Argument and Persuasion 293 

enthusiastic faces of seven hundred and fifty-six delegates, 
waiting to cast their lots into the urn and determine the 
choice of the Republic, but by four milhons of Repubhcan 
firesides, where the thoughtful voters, with wives and chil- 
dren about them, with the calm thoughts inspired by love 
of home and coimtry, with the history of the past, the hopes 
of the future, and reverence for the great men who have 
adorned and blessed our nation in days gone by, burning in 
their hearts, — there God prepares the verdict which will 
determine the wisdom of our work to-night. Not in Chi- 
cago, in the heat of June, but at the ballot boxes of the Re- 
pubUc, in the quiet of November, after the silence of de- 
liberate judgment, will this question be settled. 

Now, gentlemen, I am about to present a name for your 
consideration, — the name of one who was the comrade, 
associate, and friend of nearly all the noble dead, whose 
faces look down upon us from these walls to-night ; a man 
who began his career of public service twenty-five years ago. 

You ask for his monument. I poiat you to twenty-five 
years of national statutes. Not one great, beneficent law 
has been placed on our statute books without his intelligent 
and powerful aid. He aided in formulating the laws to 
raise the great armies and navies which carried us through 
the war. His hand was seen in the workmanship of those 
statutes that restored and brought back "the unity and 
married calm of States." His hand was in all that great 
legislation that created the war currency, and in all the still 
greater work that redeemed the promises of the government 
and made the currency equal to gold. 

When at last he passed from the halls of legislation into a 
high executive ofi&ce, he displayed that experience, intelli- 

294 Public Speaking 

gence, firmness, and poise of character, which have carried us 
through a stormy period of three years, with one half the public 
press crying "Crucify him! " and a hostile Congress seeking 
to prevent success. In all this he remained immoved until 
victory crowned him. The great fiscal affairs of the nation, 
and the vast business interests of the country, he guarded 
and preserved while executing the law of resumption, and 
effected its object without a jar and against the false prophe- 
cies of one half of the press and of all the Democratic party. 
He has shown himself able to meet with calmness the great 
emergencies of the government. For twenty-five years he 
has trodden the perilous heights of public duty, and against 
aU the shafts of malice has borne his breast unharmed. He 
has stood in the blaze of " that fierce light that beats against 
the throne"; but its fiercest ray has found no flaw in his 
armor, no stain upon his shield. I do not present him as a 
better Republican or a better man than thousands of others 
that we honor ; but I present him for your dehberate and 
favorable consideration. I nominate John Sherman, of 


From " The Speeches and Addresses of William E. Russell." Copyrighted 
1893, by Little, Brown and < ompany, Boston, publishers 

By WttLIAM E. RussELt 

As I stand here to-night, a Democrat, speaking to Demo- 
crats, and to men whose conscience party could not bind, — 
men who carry their sovereignty each under his own hat, — 
there comes vividly back to me the stirring words with 
which the chairman opened a similar meeting on the eve of 
the great battle of 1884, "This is a imion meeting;" and, 

Argument and Persuasion 295 

as he spoke, the minds of his hearers went back to war days, 
when principle was placed above party, and patriotism 
above partisanship. 

Our imion is not for the triumph of any man, but for the 
triumph of ideas; for a living faith, a progressive spirit. 
It is of that to-night I speak. 

It has often been said that there was little difference 
between the two parties. Perhaps that was the criticism 
of honest men, whose earnest desire for honest candidates 
led them to look no farther. To-day every intelHgent 
man in Massachusetts knows that there is a wide difference 
between the parties, — all the difference that there is 
between standing still and moving forward. I do not 
believe that this difference is accidental. It is the natural 
evolution of the history and purpose of the parties. A 
political prophet of a generation ago, who knew this history, 
who had studied the Democratic faith, had seen the birth 
of the Republican party and its purpose, could have pre- 
dicted the position of the parties to-day. The Democratic 
party is old enough to have outlived and defeated all other 
parties, young enough to represent the progressive spirit 
of to-day. It must be founded on vital principles and have 
a living faith. Its creed from its first to its thirty-ninth 
article is an abiding trust in the people, a belief that men, 
irrespective of the accident of birth or fortune, have a right 
to a voice in the government that rules them. Its principles 
are the equality and freedom of all men in affairs of State 
and before the altar of their God, — that there should be 
allowed the greatest possible personal liberty, that a 
government least felt is best, that it should lightly and 
never unnecessarily impose its burdens of taxation and 

296 Public Speaking 

restriction, that in its administration there should be 
simplicity, purity, and economy, and in its form it should 
be closely within the reach and control of the people. 

Progress, merely as progress, is nothing; but progress 
that sees the changes of a generation, — ■ a blessed, lasting 
peace in place of the horrors and burdens of civil war, a 
reunited, loyal country ; progress that hears the demand of 
the people for pure and economic administration, for reUef 
from restrictions and taxation; progress that feels the dis' 
content and suffering of great masses of the people, — this 
progress, if willing and ready to shape into legislation 
the new wishes and the new wants, rises to the height 
of statesmanship. 


From a speech opening the National Democratic Convention, at Baltimore, 
Maryland, June, 1912 

By Alton B. Paeker 

It is not the wild and cruel methods of revolution 
and violence that are needed to correct the abuses incident 
to our Government as to all things human. Neither ma- 
terial nor moral progress lies that way. We have made 
our Government and our compHcated institutions by ap- 
peals to reason, seeking to educate all our people that, day 
after day, year after year, century after century, they may 
see more clearly, act more justly, become more and more 
attached to the fundamental ideas that underlie our society. 
If we are to preserve undiminished the heritage bequeathed 
us, and add to it those accretions without which society 
would perish, we shall need all the powers that the school. 

Argument and Persuasion 297 

the church, the court, the deliberative assembly, and the 
quiet thought of our people can bring to bear. 

We are called upon to do battle against the unfaithful 
guardians of our Constitution and liberties and the hordes 
of ignorance which are pushing forward only to the ruin of 
our social and governmental fabric. 

Too long has the country endured the offenses of the 
leaders of a party which once knew greatness. Too long 
have we been blind to the bacchanal of corruption. Too 
long have we Ustlessly watched the assembling of the forces 
that threaten our country and our firesides. 

The time has come when the salvation of the country 
demands the restoration to place and power of men of high 
ideals who will wage unceasing war against corruption in 
politics, who will enforce the law against both rich and poor, 
and who will treat guilt as personal and punish it ac- 

What is our duty ? To think alike as to men and meas- 
ures ? Impossible ! Even for our great party ! There is 
not a reactionary among us. All Democrats are Progres- 
sives. But it is inevitably human that we shall not all 
agree that in a single highway is found the only road to 
progress, or each make the same man of all our worthy 
candidates his first choice. 

It is possible, however, and it is our duty to put aside all 
selfishness, to consent cheerfully that the majority shall speak 
for each of us, and to march out of this convention shoulder 
to shoulder, intoning the praises of our chosen leader — 
and that will be his due, whichever of the honorable and 
able men now claiming our attention shall be chosen. 

298 Public Speaking 


At the National Democratic Convention, Baltimore, Maryland, June, 1912. 

By John W. Wescott 

The New Jersey delegation is commissioned to represent 
the great cause of Democracy and to offer you as its mili- 
tant and triumphant leader a scholar, not a charlatan; 
a statesman, not a doctrinaire ; a profound lawyer, not a 
splitter of legal hairs; a political economist, not an ego- 
tistical theorist; a practical politician, who constructs, 
modifies, restrains, without disturbance and destruction; 
a resistless debater and consummate master of statement, 
not a mere sophist; a humanitarian, not a defamer of 
characters and hves ; a man whose mind is at once cosmo- 
politan and composite of America ; a gentleman of unpre- 
tentious habits, with the fear of God in his heart and the 
love of mankind exhibited in every act of his life ; above all 
a public servant who has been tried to the uttermost and 
never found wanting — matchless, imconquerable, the 
ultimate Democrat, Woodrow Wilson. 

New Jersey has reasons for her course. Let us not be 
deceived in our premises. Campaigns of vilification, cor- 
ruption and false pretence have lost their usefulness. The 
evolution of national energy is towards a more intelli- 
gent morality in politics and in all other relations. 
The situation admits of no compromise. The temper 
and purpose of the American public will tolerate no 
other view. The indifference of the American people to 
politics has disappeared. Any platform and any candidate 
not conforming to this vast social and commercial behest 
will go down to ignominious defeat at the polls. 

Men are known by what they say and do. They are 

Argument and Persuasion 299 

known by those who hate and oppose them. Many years 
ago Woodrow Wilson said, "No man is great who thinks 
himself so, and no man is good who does not try to secure 
the happiness and comfort of others." This is the secret 
of his life. The deeds of this moral and intellectual giant 
are known to all men. They accord, not with the shams and 
false pretences of poUtics, but make national harmony with 
the millions of patriots determined to correct the wrongs 
of plutocracy and reestablish the maxims of American lib- 
erty in all their regnant beauty and practical effectiveness. 
New Jersey loves Woodrow Wilson not for the enemies he 
has made. New Jersey loves him for what he is. New 
Jersey argues that Woodrow Wilson is the only candidate 
who can not only make Democratic success a certainty, but 
secure the electoral vote of almost every State in the Union. 
New Jersey will indorse his nomination by a majority 
of 100,000 of her liberated citizens. We are not building 
for a day, or even a generation, but for all time. New 
Jersey believes that there is an omniscience in national 
instinct. That instinct centers in Woodrow Wilson. He 
has been in political life less than two years. He has had 
no organization ; only a practical ideal — the reestabhsh- 
ment of equal opportunity. Not his deeds alone, not his 
immortal words alone, not his personaUty alone, not his 
matchless powers alone, but all combined compel national 
faith and confidence in him. Every crisis evolves its mas- 
ter. Time and circumstance have evolved Woodrow Wil- 
son. The North, the South, the East, and the West unite 
in him. New Jersey appeals to this convention to give the 
nation Woodrow Wilson, that he may open the gates of 
opportunity to every man, woman, and child under our flag, 

300 Public Speaking 

by reforming abuses, and thereby teaching them, in his 
matchless words, "to release their energies inteUigently, 
that peace, justice and prosperity may reign." New Jersey 
rejoices, through her freely chosen representatives, to name 
for the presidency of the United States the Princeton school- 
master, Woodrow Wilson. 


From " The Speeches and Addresses of William E. Russell." Copyrighted, 
1894, by Little, Brown and Company, Boston, Publishers 

By WttLiAM E. Russell 

For the honor and privilege of addressing this gathering 
of Young Democracy I am deeply grateful. With earnest- 
ness and enthusiasm, with devotion to the party and its 
principles, and with unflinching loyalty to its glorious 
leaders. Young Democracy meets to-day for organization 
and action. Gladly it volunteers in a campaign where its 
very faith is at stake ; impatiently it awaits the coming of 
the battle. 

We fight for measures, not men ; the principles of govern- 
ment, not men's characters, are to be discussed ; a nation's 
policy, not personal ambition, is to be determined. 

Thank God, we enter the fight with a living faith, founded 
upon principles that are just, enduring, as old as the nation 
itself, yet ever young, vigorous, and progressive, because 
there is ever work for them to do. Our party was not 
founded for a single mission, which accomplished, left it 
drifting with no fixed star of principle to guide it. It was 
born and has lived to uphold great truths of government 
that need always to be enforced. The influence of the past 
speaks to us in the voice of the present. Jefferson and 

Argument and Persuasion 301 

Jackson still lead us, not because they are glorious reminis- 
cences, but because the philosophy of the one, the courage 
of the other, the Democracy of both, are potent factors in 
determining Democracy to-day. 

We believe that a government which controls the Hves, 
liberties, and property of a people in its administration 
should be honest, economical, and efl&cient; and in its 
form a local self-government kept near to the power that 
makes and obeys it. To safeguard the rights and liberty 
of the individual, the Democratic party demands home 
rule. Democracy stands beside the humblest citizen to 
protect him from oppressive government ; it is the bulwark 
of the silent people to resist having the power and purpose 
of government warped by the clamorous demands of selfish 
interests. Its greatest good, its highest glory, is that it is, 
and is to be, the people's party. To it government is a 
power to protect and encourage men to make the most of 
themselves, and not something for men to make the most 
out of. 

And, lastly, we believe in the success, the glory, and the 
splendid destiny of this great Repubhc. It leaped into Ufe 
from the hands of Democrats. More than three-quarters 
of a century it has been nurtured and strengthened by 
Democratic rule. Under Democratic administrations, in 
its mighty sweep, it has stretched from ocean to ocean, not 
as a North and South and East and West, but now as a 
glorious Union of sovereign States, reunited in love and 
loyalty, a great nation of millions of loyal subjects. 

The faith we profess is distinctly an American faith ; the 
principles we proclaim are distinctly American principles, 
and have been from their first utterance in the Declaration 

302 Public Speaking 

of Independence to their latest in the platform of the St. 
Louis Convention ; the policy they demand of us as Demo- 
crats is emphatically an American policy. 

Our great leader lives in the faith we profess. He speaks 
in the principles we assert. He leads because we follow 
Democracy, its faith, its principles, and its policy and hail 
him as the foremost Democrat of the Nation. Thus comes 
victory. Thus victory means something. Thus power 
and responsibihty go together, and the only influence 
behind him are the wishes, the rights, and the welfare of 
the great American people. In such a cause, with such a 
leader, there is no room for failure. 

" To doubt would be disloyalty. 
To falter would be sin." 

By John Bright 

What can be more monstrous than that we, as we call 
ourselves, to some extent, an educated, a moral, and a 
Christian nation — at a moment when an accident of this 
kind occurs, before we have made a representation to the 
American government, before we have heard a word from 
it in reply — should be all up in arms, every sword leaping 
from its scabbard, and every man looking about for his 
pistols and his blunderbusses? I think the conduct 
pursued — and I have no doubt just the same is pursued 
by a certain class in America — is much more the conduct 
of savages than of Christian and civilized men. No, let 
us be calm. You recollect how we were dragged into the 
Russian war — how we "drifted" into it. You know 
that I, at least, have not upon my head any of the guilt of 

Argument and Persuasion 303 

that fearful war. You know that it cost one hundred 
millions of money to this country ; that it cost at least the 
lives of forty thousand Englishmen; that it disturbed 
your trade ; that it nearly doubled the armies of Europe ; 
that it placed the relations of Europe on a much less peace- 
ful footing than before ; and that it did not effect a single 
thing of all those that it was promised to effect. 

Now, then, before I sit down, let me ask you what is this 
people, about which so many men in England at this moment 
are writing, and speaking, and thinking, with harshness, I 
think with injustice, if not with great bitterness? Two 
centuries ago, multitudes of the people of this country found 
a refuge on the North American continent, escaping from 
the tyranny of the Stuarts and from the bigotry of Laud. 
Many noble spirits from our country made great experi- 
ments in favor of human freedom on that continent. Ban- 
croft, the great historian of his own country, has said, in 
his own graphic and emphatic language, "The history of 
the colonization of America is the history of the crimes of 

At this very moment, then, there are millions in the 
United States who personally, or whose immediate parents 
have at one time been citizens of this country. They found 
a home in the Far West; they subdued the wilderness; 
they met with plenty there, which was not afforded them 
in their native country; and they have become a great 
people. There may be persons in England who are jealous 
of those States. There may be men who dislike democracy, 
and who hate a republic ; there may be those whose sym- 
pathies warm only toward an oligarchy or a monarchy. 
But of this I am certain, that only misrepresentation the 

304 Public Speaking 

most gross, or calumny the most wicked, can sever the tie 
which unites the great mass of the people of this country 
with their friends and brethren beyond the Atlantic. 

Now, whether the Union will be restored or not, or the 
South achieve an unhonored independence or not, I know 
not, and I predict not. But this I think I know — that in 
a few years, a very few years, the twenty millions of freemen 
in the North will be thirty millions, or even fifty millions — 
a population equal to or exceeding that of this kingdom. 
When that time comes, I pray that it may not be said among 
them, that in the darkest hour of their country's trials, 
England, the land of their fathers, looked on with icy cold- 
ness and saw unmoved the perils and calamities of her 
children. As for me, I have but this to say : I am but 
one in this audience, and but one in the citizenship of this 
country; but if all other tongues are silent, mine shall 
speak for that poUcy which tends, and which always shall 
tend, to generous thoughts, and generous words, and 
generous deeds, between the two great nations who speak 
the English language, and from their origin are alike 
entitled to the English name. 

By William E. Gladstone 

There has been no great day of hope for Ireland, no day 
when you might hope completely and definitely to end the 
controversy till now — more than ninety years. The long 
periodic time has at last run out, and the star has again 
mounted into the heavens. What Ireland was doing for 
herself in 1795 we at length have done. The Roman 
Catholics have been emancipated — emancipated after 

Argument and Persuasion 305 

a woeful disregard of solemn promises through twenty-nine 
years, emancipated slowly, sullenly, not from good will, 
but from abject terror, with all the fruits and consequences 
which will always follow that method of legislation. The 
second problem has been also solved, and the representation 
of Ireland has been thoroughly reformed; and I am thank- 
ful to say that the franchise was given to Ireland on the 
readjustment of last year with a free heart, with an open 
hand; and the gift of that franchise was the last act re- 
quired to make the success of Ireland in her final effort 
absolutely sure. We have given Ireland a voice; we must 
all listen for a moment to what she says. We must all 
listen, both sides, both parties — I mean as they are 
divided on this question — divided, I am afraid, by an al- 
most immeasurable gap. We do not undervalue or despise 
the forces opposed to us. I have described them as the 
forces of class and its dependents; and that as a general 
description — as a slight and rude outline of a descrip- 
tion — is, I believe, perfectly true. You have power, 
you have wealth, you have rank, you have station, you 
have organization. What have we ? We think that we 
have the people's heart; we beheve and we know we have 
the promise of the harvest of the future. As to the people's 
heart, you may dispute it, and dispute it with perfect 
sincerity. Let that matter make its own proof. As to 
the harvest of the future, I doubt if you have so much 
confidence; and I believe that there is in the breast of 
many a man who means to vote against us to-night a pro- 
found misgiving, approaching even to a deep conviction, 
that the end will be as we foresee, and not as you do — that 
the ebbing tide is with you, and the flowing tide with us. 

306 Public Speaking 

Ireland stands at your bar, expectant, hopeful, almost 
suppliant. Her words are the words of truth and sober- 
ness. She asks a blessed oblivion of the past, and in that 
oblivion our interest is deeper than even hers. My right 
honorable friend, the member for East Edinburgh, asks 
us to-night to abide by the traditions of which we are the 
heirs. What traditions ? By the Irish traditions ? Go 
into the length and breadth of the world, ransack the 
hterature of all coimtries, find, if you can, a single voice, 
a single book — find, I would almost say, as much as a 
single newspaper article, imless the product of the day, — 
in which the conduct of England towards Ireland is any- 
where treated except with profound and bitter condemna- 
tion. Are these the traditions by which we are exhorted 
to stand? No; they are a sad exception to the glory of 
our country. They are a broad and black blot upon the 
pages of its history; and what we want to do is to stand 
by the traditions of which we are the heirs in all matters 
except our relations with Ireland, and to make our re- 
lations with Ireland to conform to the other tradi- 
tions of our country. So we treat our traditions, so we hail 
the demand of Ireland for what I call a blessed oblivion 
of the past. She asks also a boon for the future ; and 
that boon for the future, unless we are much mistaken, 
will be a boon to us in respect of honor, no less than a boon 
to her in respect of happiness, prosperity, and peace. Such, 
sir, is her prayer. Think, I beseech you, think well, think 
wisely, think, not for the moment, but for the years that 
are to come, before you reject this Bill. 

Argument and Persuasion 307 

The Legal Plea 

By Daniel Webster 

The case before the court is not of ordinary importance, 
nor of everyday occurrence. It afEects not this college 
only, but every college, and all the literary institutions 
of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and have 
become in a high degree respectable and useful to the 
commimity. They have all a common principle of exist- 
ence, the inviolability of their charters. It will be a 
dangerous, a most dangerous experiment to hold these 
institutions subject to the rise and fall of popular parties, 
and the fluctuations of political opinions. If the franchise 
may be at any time taken away, or impaired, the property 
also may be taken away, or its use perverted. Benefactors 
will have no certainty of effecting the object of their bounty ; 
and learned men will be deterred from devoting themselves 
to the service of such institutions, from the precarious title 
of their offices. Colleges and halls will be deserted by all 
better spirits, and become a theater for the contentions of 
politics. Party and faction will be cherished in the places 
consecrated to piety and learning. 

When the court in North Carohna declared the law of 
the State, which repealed a grant to its university, uncon- 
stitutional and void, the legislature had the candor and the 
wisdom to repeal the law. This example, so honorable to 
the State which exhibited it, is most fit to be followed on 
this occasion. And there is good reason to hope that a State 
which has hitherto been so much distinguished for temperate 
counsels, cautious legislation, and regard to law, will not fail 

308 Public Speaking 

to adopt a course which will accord with her highest and 
best interests, and in no small degree elevate her reputation. 

It was for many and obvious reasons most anxiously 
desired that the question of the power of the legislature 
over this charter should have been finally decided in the 
State court. An earnest hope was entertained that the 
judges of the court might have reviewed the case in a light 
favorable to the rights of the trustees. That hope has 
failed. It is here that those rights are now to be maintained, 
or they are prostrated forever. 

This, sir, is my case. It is the case, not merely of that 
humble institution, it is the case of every college in the 
land. It is more. It is the case of every eleemosjTiary 
institution throughout our coimtry — of all those great 
charities formed by the piety of our ancestors, to alle- 
viate human misery, and scatter blessings along the path- 
way of Ufe. It is more ! It is, in some sense, the case 
of every man among us who has property, of which 
he may be stripped, for the question is simply this: 
Shall our State legislatures be allowed to take that which 
is not their own, to turn it from its original use, and to 
apply it to such ends or purposes as they in their discre- 
tion shall see fit ? 

Sir, you may destroy this httle institution; it is 
weak ; it is in your hands ! I know it is one of the 
lesser lights in the literary horizon of our country. You 
may put it out. But, if you do so, you must carry 
through your work ! You must extinguish, one after 
another, all those greater lights of science, which, for 
more than a century, have thrown their radiance over 
our land ! 

Argument and Persuasion 309 

It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet there are 
those who love it. 

Sir, I know not how others may feel, but for myself, 
when I see my Alma Mater surrounded, Hke Caesar, in the 
senate house, by those who are reiterating stab after stab, 
I would not, for this right hand, have her turn to me, and 
say, et tu quoque, mi fili ! And thou too, my son I 

By Daniel Webster 

Gentlemen of the Jury, — It is true that the offense 
charged in the indictment in this case is not capital; but 
perhaps this can hardly be considered as favorable to the 
defendants. To those who are guilty, and without hope of 
escape, no doubt the lightness of the penalty of transgres- 
sion gives consolation. But if the defendants are innocent, 
it is more natural for them to be thinking upon what they 
have lost by that alteration of the law which has left 
highway robbery no longer capital, than what the guilty 
might gain by it. They have lost those great privileges in 
their trial, which the law allows, in capital cases, for the 
protection of innocence against unfounded accusation. 
They have lost the right of being previously furnished with 
a copy of the indictment, and a list of the government 
witnesses. They have lost the right of peremptory chal- 
lenge; and, notwithstanding the prejudices which they 
know have been excited against them, they must show legal 
cause of challenge, in each individual case, or else take 
the jury as they find it. They have lost the benefit of 
assignment of counsel by the court. They have lost 
the benefit of the Commonwealth's process to bring in 

310 Public Speaking 

witnesses in their behalf. When to these circumstances 
it is added that they are strangers, ahnost wholly without 
friends, and without the means for preparing their de- 
fense, it is evident they must take their trial imder great 

But without dwelling on these considerations, I proceed. 
Gentlemen of the Jury, to ask yoiur attention to those 
circumstances which cannot but cast doubts on the story 
of the prosecutor. 

The jury will naturally look to the appearances ex- 
hibited on the field after the robbery. The portmanteau 
was there. The witnesses say that the straps which fas- 
tened it to the saddle had been neither cut nor broken. 
They were carefully ujibuckled. This was very con- 
siderate for robbers. It had been opened, and its contents 
were scattered about the field. The pocket book, too, had 
been opened, and many papers it contained found on the 
ground. Nothing valuable was lost but money. The 
robbers did not think it well to go off at once with the 
portmanteau and the pocket book. The place was so 
secure, so remote, so unfrequented ; they were so far from 
the highway, at least one full rod ; there were so few persons 
passing, probably not more than four or five then in the 
road, within hearing of the pistols and the cries of Good- 
ridge; there being, too, not above five or six dwelling- 
houses, full of people, within the hearing of the report of 
a pistol ; these circumstances were all so favorable to their 
safety, that the robbers sat down to look over the prose- 
cutor's papers, carefully examined the contents of his 
pocket book and portmanteau, and took only the things 
which they needed ! There was money belonging to other 

Argument and Persuasion 311 

persons. The robbers did not take it. They found out 

it was not the prosecutor's, and left it. It may be said to 

be favorable to the prosecutor's story, that the money which 

did not belong to him, and the plunder of which would 

seem to be the most probable inducement he could have 

to feign a robbery, was not taken. But the jury will 

consider whether this circumstance does not bear quite as 

strongly the other way, and whether they can believe that 

robbers could have left this money, either from accident or 



The witnesses on the part of the prosecution have testi- 
fied that the defendants, when , arrested, manifested great 
agitation and alarm; paleness overspread their faces, and 
drops of sweat stood on their temples. This satisfied the 
witnesses of the defendants' guilt, and they now state the 
circumstances as being indubitable proof. This argument 
manifests, in those who use it, an equal want of sense and 
sensibility. It is precisely fitted to the feeling and the 
intellect of a bum-bailiff. In a court of justice it deserves 
nothing but contempt. Is there nothing that can agitate 
the frame or excite the blood but the consciousness of 
guilt? If the defendants were innocent, would they not 
feel indignation at this unjust accusation? If they saw 
an attempt to produce false evidence against them, would 
they not be angry? And, seeing the production of such 
evidence, might they not feel fear and alarm? And have 
indignation, and anger, and terror no power to affect the 
human countenance or the human frame? 

Miserable, miserable, indeed, is the reasoning which 
would infer any man's guilt from his agitation when he 

312 Public Speaking 

found himself accused of a heinous offense ; when he saw 
evidence which he might know to be false and fraudulent 
brought against him ; when his house was filled, from the 
garret to the cellar, by those whom he might esteem as 
false witnesses ; and when he himself, instead of being at 
liberty to observe their conduct and watch their motions, 
was a prisoner in close custody in his own house, with the 
fists of a catchpoll clenched upon his throat. 

From the time of the robbery to the arrest, five or six 
weeks, the defendants were engaged in their usual occu- 
pations. They are not foimd to have passed a doUar of 
money to anybody. They continued their ordinary habits 
of labor. No man saw money about them, nor any circum- 
stance that might lead to a suspicion that they had money. 
Nothing occurred tending in any degree to excite suspicion 
against them. When arrested, and when all this array of 
evidence was brought against them, and when they could 
hope in nothing but their innocence, immimity was offered 
them again if they would confess. They were pressed, 
and urged, and allured, by every motive which could be 
set before them, to acknowledge their participation in the 
offense, and to bring out their accomplices. They steadily 
protested that they could confess nothing because they 
knew nothing. In defiance of all the discoveries made in 
their house, they have trusted to their innocence. On 
that, and on the candor and discernment of an enlightened 
jury, they still rely. 

If the jury are satisfied that there is the highest improba- 
bihty that these persons could have had any previous knowl- 
edge of Goodridge, or been concerned in any previous 
concert to rob him ; if their conduct that evening and the 

Argument and Persuasion 313 

next day was marked by no circumstance of suspicion ; if 
from that moment until their arrest nothing appeared 
against them ; if they neither passed money, nor are 
found to have had money ; if the manner of the search of 
their house, and the circumstances attending it, excite strong 
suspicions of unfair and fraudulent practices ; if, in the hour 
of their utmost peril, no promises of safety could draw 
from the defendants any confession affecting themselves or 
others, it will be for the jury to say whether they can 
pronounce them guilty. 


Published in Depew's " Library of Oratory," E. J. Bowen and Company, 
New York, publishers 

By D. W. Vooehees 

Who is John E. Cook? 

He has the right himself to be heard before you ; but I 
will answer for him. Sprung from an ancestry of loyal 
attachment to the American government, he inherits no 
blood of tainted impurity. His grandfather, an ofl&cer of 
the Revolution, by which your liberty, as well as mine, was 
achieved, and his gray-haired father, who Uved to weep 
over him, a soldier of the war of 1812, he brings no dis- 
honored lineage into your presence. Born of a parent stock 
occupying the middle walks of life, and possessed of all 
those tender and domestic virtues which escape the con- 
tamination of those vices that dwell on the frozen peaks, 
or in the dark and deep caverns of society, he would not 
have been here had precept and example been remembered 
in the prodigal wanderings of his short and checkered life. 

Poor deluded boy ! wayward, misled child ! An evil 

314 Public Speaking 

star presided over thy natal hour and smote it with 

In an evil hour — and may it be forever accursed ! — 
John E. Cook met John Brown on the prostituted plains of 
Kansas. On that field of fanaticism, three years ago, this 
fair and gentle youth was thrown into contact with the 
pirate and robber of civil warfare. 

Now look at John Cook, the follower. He is in evidence 
before you. Never did I plead for a face that I was more 
wilHng to show. If evil is there, I have not seen it. If 
murder is there, I am to learn to mark the lines of the 
murderer anew. If the assassin is in that young face, then 
commend me to the look of an assassin. No, gentlemen, it 
is a face for a mother to love, and a sister to idolize, and 
in which the natural goodness of his heart pleads trumpet- 
tongued against the deep damnation that estranged him 
from home and its principles. 

John Brown was the despotic leader and John E. Cook 
was an ill-fated follower of an enterprise whose horror he now 
realizes and deplores. I defy the man, here or elsewhere, who 
has ever known John E. Cook, who has ever looked once 
fully into his face, and learned anything of his history, to lay 
his hand on his heart and say that he believes him guilty of 
the origin or the results of the outbreak at Harper's Ferry. 

Here, then, are the two characters whom you are think- 
ing to punish alike. Can it be that a jury of Christian men 
will find no discrimination should be made between them ? 
Are the tempter and the tempted the same in your eyes ? 
Is the beguiled youth to die the same as the old offender 
who has pondered his crimes for thirty years ? Are there 
no grades in your estimations of guilt? Is each one, 

Argument and Persuasion 315 

without respect to age or circumstances, to be beaten 
with the same number of stripes ? 

Such is not the law, human or divine. We are all to be 
rewarded according to our works, whether in punishment for 
evil, or blessings for good that we have done. You are here 
to do justice, and if justice requires the same fate to befall 
Cook that befalls Brown, I know nothing of her rules, and 
do not care to learn. They are as widely asunder, in all 
that constitutes guilt, as the poles of the earth, and should 
be dealt with accordingly. It is in your power to do so, 
and by the principles by which you yourselves are willing 
to be judged hereafter, I implore you to do it ! 


Published in " Depew's Library of Oratory," E. J. Bowen and Company, 
New York, publishers 

By Josiah Quincy, Jr. 

May it please your honors, and you gentlemen of the 
jury, — We have at length gone through the evidence in 
behalf of the prisoners. The witnesses haye now placed 
before you that state of facts from which results oui defense. 

I stated to you, gentlemen, your duty in opening this 
cause — do not forget the discharge of it. You are paying 
a debt you owe the community for your own protection and 
safety: by the same mode of trial are your own rights to 
receive a determination; and in your turn a time may 
come when you will expect and claim a similar return from 
some other jury of your fellow subjects. 

How much need was there for my desire that you shoiild 
suspend your judgment till the witnesses were all examined ? 
How different is the complexion of the cause? Will not 

316 Public Speaking 

all this serve to show every honest man the little truth to 
be attained in partial hearings ? In the present case, how 
great was the prepossession against us ? And I appeal to 
you, gentlemen, what cause there now is to alter our senti- 
ments ? Will any sober, prudent man cotuitenance the pro- 
ceedings of the people in King Street, — can any one justify 
their conduct, — is there any one man or any body of men 
who are interested to espouse and support their conduct? 

Surely, no ! But our inquiry must be confined to the 
legality of their conduct, and here can be no difficulty. It 
was certainly illegal, unless many witnesses are directly per- 
jured : witnesses, who have no apparent interest to falsify, — 
witnesses who have given their testimony with candor and 
accuracy, — witnesses whose credibility stands untouched, 
— whose credibility the counsel for the king do not pretend 
to impeach or hint a suggestion to their disadvantage. 

I say, gentlemen, by the standard of the law are we to 
judge the actions of the people who were the assailants and 
those who were the assailed and then on duty. And here, 
gentlemen, the rule we formerly laid down takes place. To 
the facts, gentlemen, apply yourselves. Consider them as 
testified ; weigh the credibility of the witnesses — balance 
their testimony — compare the several parts of it — see the 
amount of it; and then, according to your oath, "make 
true deliverance according to your evidence." That is, 
gentlemen, having settled the facts, bring them truly to the 
standard of the law ; the king's judges, who are acquainted 
with it, who are presumed best to know it, will then inspect 
this great standard of right and wrong, truth and justice ; 
and they are to determine the degree of guilt to which 
the fact rises. 

Argument and Persuasion 317 


May it please your honors, and you gentlemen of the 
jury, — After having thus gone through the evidence and 
considered it as applicatory to all and every one of the 
prisoners, let us take once more a brief and cursory survey 
of matters supported by the evidence. And here let me ask 
in sober reason, what language more opprobrious, what 
actions more exasperating, than those used on this occa- 
sion ? Words, I am sensible, are no justification of blows, 
but they serve as the grand clew to discover the temper and 
the designs of the agents ; they serve also to give us light 
in discerning the apprehensions and thoughts of those who 
are the objects of abuse. 

"You lobsters!" — "You bloody-back !" — "You cow- 
ard !" — "You dastard !" are but some of the expressions 
proved. What words more galling? What more cutting 
and provoking to a soldier ? But accouple these words 
with the succeeding actions, — "You dastard!" — "You 
coward !" A soldier and a coward ! 

This was touching "the point of honor and the pride of 
virtue." But while these are as yet fomenting the passions 
and swelling the bosom, the attack is made ; and probably 
the latter words were reiterated at the onset ; at least, were 
yet sounding in the ear. Gentlemen of the jury, for 
Heaven's sake, let us put ourselves in the same situation ! 
Would you not spurn at that spiritless institution of society 
which tells you to be a subject at the expense of your 
manhood ? 

But does the soldier step out of his ranks to seek his 
revenge ? Not a witness pretends it. Did not the people 
repeatedly come within the points of their bayonets and 

318 Public Speaking 

strike on the muzzles of the guns? You have heard the 
witnesses. - 

Does the law allow one member of the commxuiity to 
behave in this manner towards his fellow citizen, and then 
bid the injured party be calm and moderate ? The expres- 
sions from one party were — "Stand off, stand off !" — "I 
am upon my station." — "If they molest me upon my post, 
I wiU fire. " — "Keep off!" 

These words were likely to produce reflection and pro- 
cure peace. But had the words on the other hand a similar 
tendency? Consider the temper prevalent among all 
parties at this time. Consider the situation of the soldiery ; 
and come to the heat and pressure of the action. The 
materials are laid, the spark is raised, the fire enkindles, all 
prudence and true wisdom are utterly consumed. Does 
common sense, does the law expect impossibiUties ? 

Here, to expect equanimity of temper, would be as irra- 
tional as to expect discretion in a madman. But was 
anything done on the part of the assailants similar to the 
conduct, warnings, and declarations of the prisoners? 
Answer for yourselves, gentlemen ! The words reiterated 
all aroimd stabbed to the heart ; the actions of the assail- 
ants tended to a worse end, — to awaken every passion of 
which the human breast is susceptible ; fear, anger, pride, 
resentment, revenge, alternately take possession of the 
whole man. 

To expect, vmder these circumstances, that such words 
would assuage the tempest, that such actions would allay 
the flames, — you might as rationally expect the immda- 
tions of a torrent would suppress a deluge, or rather that 
the flames of .^tna would extinguish a conflagration ! 

Argument and Persuasion 319 


Gentlemen of the Jury, — This case has taken up much of 
your time, and is hkely to take up so much more that I must 
hasten to a close. Indeed, I should not have troubled you, 
by being thus lengthy, but from a sense of duty to the 
prisoners ; they who in some sense may be said to have put 
their Uves in my hands ; they whose situation was so pecul- 
iar that we have necessarily taken up more time than 
ordinary cases require. They, under all these circum- 
stances, placed a confidence it was my duty not to dis- 
appoint, and which I have aimed at discharging with 
fidelity. I trust you, gentlemen, will do the Uke ; that you 
will examine and judge with a becoming temper of mind ; 
remembering that they who are under oath to declare the 
whole truth think and act very differently from bystanders, 
who, being under no ties of this kind, take a latitude which 
is by no means admissible in a court of law. 

I cannot close this cause better than by desiring you to 

consider well the genius and spirit of the law which will be 

laid down, and to govern yourselves by this great standard 

of truth. To some purposes, you may be said, gentlemen, 

to be ministers of justice; and "ministers," says a learned 

judge, "appointed for the ends of public justice, should 

have written on their hearts the solemn engagements of 

his Majesty, at his coronation, to cause law and justice in 

mercy to be executed in all his judgments." 

"The quality of mercy is not strained; 
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven : . . . 

It is twice blessed ; 
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes." 

I leave you, gentlemen, hoping you wiU be directed in your 

320 Public Speaking 

inquiry and judgment to a right discharge of your duty. 
We shall all of us, gentlemen, have an hour of cool reflection 
when the feehngs and agitations of the day shall have 
subsided; when we shall view things through a different 
and a much juster medium. It is then we all wish an 
absolving conscience. May you, gentlemen, now act such 
a part as will hereafter insure it; such a part as may 
occasion the prisoners to rejoice. May the blessing of 
those who were in jeopardy of life come upon you — 
may the blessing of Him who is "not faulty to die" descend 
and rest upon you and your posterity. 


Before the Court of King's Bench, 1781 
By Lord Thomas Erskine 

Gentlemen, — You have now heard, upon the solemn oaths 
of honest, disinterested men, a faithful history of the con- 
duct of Lord George Gordon, from the day that he became a 
member of the Protestant Association to the day that he 
was committed a prisoner to the Tower. And I have no 
doubt, from the attention with which I have been honored 
from the beginning, that you have still kept in your minds 
the principles to which I entreated you would apply it, and 
that you have measured it by that standard. You have, 
therefore, only to look back to the whole of it together; 
to reflect on all you have heard concerning him; to trace 
him in your recollection through every part of the transac- 
tion; and, considering it with one manly, liberal view, to 
ask your own honest hearts, whether you can say that this 
noble and imfortunate youth is a wicked and deliberate 
traitor, who deserves by your verdict to suffer a shameful 

Argument and Persuasion 321 

and ignominious death, which will stain the ancient honors 
of his house forever. 

The crime which the Crown would have fixed upon him 
is, that he assembled the Protestant Association rovmd the 
House of Commons, not merely to influence and persuade 
Parhament by the earnestness of their supplications, but 
actually to coerce it by hostile, rebellious force ; that, find- 
ing himself disappointed in the success of that coercion, 
he afterward incited his followers to abolish the legal 
indulgences to Papists, which the object of the petition 
was to repeal, by the burning of their houses of worship, 
and the destruction of their property, which ended, at last, 
in a general attack on the property of all orders of men, 
religious and civil, on the public treasures of the nation, 
and on the very being of the government. 

To support a charge of so atrocious and unnatural a com- 
plexion, the laws of the most arbitrary nations would require 
the most incontrovertible proof. And what evidence, 
gentlemen of the jury, does the Crown offer to you in com- 
pliance with these sound and sacred doctrines of justice ? A 
few broken, interrupted, disjointed words, without context or 
connection — uttered by the speaker in agitation and heat — 
heard, by those who relate them to you, in the midst of 
tumult and confusion — and even those words, mutilated 
as they are, in direct opposition to, and inconsistent with, 
repeated and earnest declarations delivered at the very 
same time and on the very same occasion, related to you 
by a much greater number of persons, and absolutely 
incompatible with the whole tenor of his conduct. Which 
of us all, gentlemen, would be safe, standing at the bar of 
God or man, if we were not to be judged by the regular cur- 

322 Public Speaking 

rent of our lives and conversations, but by detached and 
unguarded expressions, picked out by malice, and recorded, 
without context or circumstances, against us ? Yet such is 
the only evidence on which the Crown asks you to dip your 
hands, and to stain your consciences, in the innocent blood 
of the noble and unfortimate youth who stands before you. 

I am sure you cannot but see, notwithstanding my great 
inability, increased by a perturbation of mind (arising, 
thank God ! from no dishonest cause), that there has been 
not only no evidence on the part of the Crown to fix the 
guilt of the late commotions upon the prisoner, but that, on 
the contrary, we have been able to resist the probability, 
I might almost say the possibility of the charge, not only 
by living witnesses, whom we only ceased to call because 
the trial would never have ended, but by the evidence of 
all the blood that has paid the forfeit of that gtiilt already ; 
since, out of all the felons who were let loose from prisons, 
and who assisted in the destruction of our property, not a 
single wretch was to be found who could even attempt to 
save his own life by the plausible promise of giving evidence 

What can overturn such a proof as this ? Surely a good 
man might, without superstition, believe that such a union 
of events was something more than natural, and that a 
Divine Providence was watchful for the protection of inno- 
cence and truth. 

I may now, therefore, relieve you from the pain of hearing 
me any longer, and be myself relieved from speaking on a 
subject which agitates and distresses me. Since Lord 
George Gordon stands clear of every hostile act or purpose 
against the Legislature of his country, or the properties of 

Argument and Persuasion 323 

his fellow-subjects — since the whole tenor of conduct 
repels the belief of the traitorous intention charged by the 
indictment — my task is finished. I shall make no address 
to your passions. I will not remind you of the long and 
rigorous imprisonment he has suffered ; I will not speak to 
you of his great youth, of his illustrious birth, and of his 
uniformly animated and generous zeal in Parliament for the 
Constitution of his cotmtry. Such topics might be useful 
in the balance; yet, even then, I should have trusted to 
the honest hearts of Englishmen to have felt them without 
excitation. At present, the plain and rigid rules of justice 
and truth are sufficient to entitle me to your verdict. 

By Sir Alpeed Wills 

Arthur Alfred LjTich, otherwise Arthur Lynch, the 
jury have found you guilty of the crime of high treason, a 
crime happily so rare that in the present day a trial for 
treason seems to be almost an anachronism — a thing of the 
past. The misdeeds which have been done in this case, 
and which have brought you to the lamentable pass in which 
you stand, must surely convince the most skeptical and 
apathetic of the gravity and reality of the crime. What 
was your action in the darkest hour of your country's for- 
tunes, when she was engaged in the deadly struggle from 
which she has just emerged ? You joined the ranks of your 
country's foes. Born in Australia, a land which has nobly 
shown its devotion to its parent country, you have indeed 
taken a different course from that which was adopted by her 
sons. You have fought against your country, not with it. 
You have sought, as far as you could, to dethrone Great 

324 Public Speaking 

Britain from her place among the nations, to make her name 
a byword and a reproach, a synonym for weakness and 
irresolution. Nor can I forget that you have shed the blood, 
or done your best to shed the blood, of your countrymen 
who were fighting for their country. How many wives 
have been made widows, how many children orphans, by 
what you and those who acted under your command have 
done. Heaven only knows ! You thought it safe at that dark 
hour of the Empire's fate, when Ladysmith, when Kim- 
berley, when Mafeking, were in the very jaws of deadly 
peril — you thought it safe, no doubt, to lift the parricidal 
hand against your country. You thought she would 
shrink from the costly struggle wearied out by her gigantic 
efforts, and that, at the worst, a general peace would be 
made which would comprehend a general amnesty and 
cover up such acts as yours and save you from personal 
peril. You misjudged your country and failed to appre- 
ciate that, though slow to enter into a quarrel, however 
slow to take up arms, it has yet been her wont that in the 
quarrel she shall bear herself so that the opposer may beware 
of her, and that she is seldom so dangerous to her enemies 
as when the hour of national calamity has raised the dor- 
mant energies of her people — knit together every nerve 
and fiber of the body politic, and has made her sons deter- 
mined to do all, to sacrifice all on behalf of the country that 
gave them birth. And against what a Sovereign and what 
a country did you Uft your hand! A Sovereign the best 
beloved and most deeply honored of all the long hne of 
English Kings and Queens, and whose lamented death 
was called back to my remembrance only yesterday as a 
fresh sorrow to many an English household. Against a 

Argument and Persuasion 325 

country which has been the home of progress and freedom, 
and under whose beneficent sway, whenever you have 
chosen to stay within her dominions, you have enjoyed a 
liberty of person, a freedom of speech and action, such as 
you can have in no other country in Europe, and it is not 
too much to say in no other country in the world. The only 

— I will not say excuse, but palliation that I can find for 
conduct like yours is that it has been for some years past 
the fashion to treat lightly matters of this kind, so that men 
have been perhaps encouraged to play with sedition and to 
toy with treason, wrapt in a certain proud consciousness of 
strength begotten of the deep-seated and well-founded 
conviction that the loyalty of her people is supreme, and 
true authority in this country has slumbered or has treated 
with contemptuous indifference speeches and acts of 
sedition. It may be that you have been misled into the 
notion that, no matter what you did, so long as your con- 
duct could be called a political crime, it was of no conse- 
quence. But it is one thing to talk sedition and to do 
small seditious acts, it is quite another thing to bear arms 
in the ranks of the foes of your country, and against it. 
Between the two the difference is immeasurable. But had 
you and those with whom you associated yourself succeeded, 
what fatal mischief might have been done to the great inher- 
itance which has been bequeathed to us by our forefathers 

— that inheritance of power which it must be our work to 
use nobly and for good things ; an inheritance of influence 
which will be of httle effect even for good unless backed by 
power, and of duty which cannot be effectually performed 
if our power be shattered and our influence impaired. He 
who has attempted to do his country such irreparable wrong 

326 Public Speaking 

must be prepared to submit to the sentence which it is 
now my duty to pronounce upon you. The sentence of 
this Court — and it is pronounced in regard to each count 
of the indictment — is that you be taken hence to the place 
from which you came, and from thence to a place of execu- 
tion, there to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. 


From the Official Records of the Trial in the United States Senate, 1868 

By George S. Boutwell 

Andrew Johnson has disregarded and violated the laws 
and Constitution of his own country. Under his admin- 
istration the government has not been strengthened, but 
weakened. Its reputation and influence at home and 
abroad have been injured and diminished. Ten States of 
this Union are without law, without security, without 
safety; public order everywhere violated, public justice 
nowhere respected ; and all in consequence of the evil pur- 
poses and machinations of the President. Forty milUons of 
people have been rendered anxious and uncertain as to the 
preservation of public peace and the perpetuity of the 
institutions of freedom in this country. All classes are 
oppressed by the private and public calamities which he has 
brought upon them. They appeal to you for relief. The 
nation waits in anxiety for the conclusion of these proceed- 
ings. Forty millions of people, whose interest in public 
affairs is in the wise and just administration of the laws, 
look to this tribunal as a sure defense against the encroach- 
ments of a criminally minded Chief Magistrate. 

Will any one say that the heaviest judgment which you 
can render is any adequate punishment for these crimes? 

Argument and Persuasion 327 

Your ofl&ce is not punishment, but to secure the safety of 
the republic. But human tribimals are inadequate to 
punish those criminals who, as rulers or magistrates, by 
their example, conduct, policy, and crimes, become the 
scourge of communities and nations. No picture, no power 
of the imagination, can illustrate or conceive the suffering 
of the poor but loyal people of the South. A patriotic, 
virtuous, law-abiding chief magistrate would have healed 
the woimds of war, soothed private and public sorrows, 
protected the weak, encouraged the strong, and lifted from 
the Southern people the burdens which now are greater 
than they can bear. 

Travelers and astronomers inform us that in the south- 
ern heavens, near the southern cross, there is a vast space 
which the tmeducated call the hole in the sky, where the 
eye of man, with the aid of the powers of the telescope, has 
been unable to discover nebulae, or asteroid, or comet, 
or planet, or star, or sun. In that dreary, cold, dark region 
of space, which is only known to be less than infinite by the 
evidences of creation elsewhere, the Great Author of celes- 
tial mechanism has left the chaos which was in the begin- 
ning. If this earth were capable of the sentiments and emo- 
tions of justice and virtue, which in human mortal beings 
are the evidences and the pledge of our Divine origin and 
immortal destiny, it would heave and throw, with the 
energy of the elemental forces of nature, and project this 
enemy of two races of men into that vast region, there 
forever to exist in a solitude eternal as life, or as the absence 
of life, emblematical of, if not really, that "outer dark- 
ness" of which the Savior of man spoke in warning to 
those who are the enemies of themselves, of their race. 

328 Public Speaking 

and of their God. But it is yours to relieve, not to punish. 
This done and our country is again advanced in the intelli- 
gent opinion of mankind. In other governments an un- 
faithful ruler can be removed only by revolution, violence, 
or force. The proceeding here is judicial, and according 
to the forms of law. Your judgment will be enforced with- 
out the aid of a policeman or a soldier. What other 
evidence will be needed of the value of repubhcan institu- 
tions? What other test of the strength and vigor of our 
government ? What other assurance that the virtue of the 
people is equal to any emergency of national Uf e ? 

By William M. Evarts 

Mr. Chief Justice and Senators, — If indeed we have 
arrived at a settled conclusion that this is a court, that it is 
governed by the law, that it is to confine its attention to 
the facts applicable to the law, and regard the sole evidence 
of those facts to be embraced within the testimony of wit- 
nesses or documents produced in court, we have made great 
progress in separating, at least, from your further consid- 
eration much that has been impressed upon your attention 
heretofore. It follows from this that the President is to be 
tried upon the charges which are produced here, and not 
upon common fame. 

I may as conveniently at this point of the argument as at 
any other pay some attention to the astronomical pimish- 
ment which the learned and honorable manager, Mr. Bout- 
well, thinks should be appHed to this novel case of impeach- 
ment of the President. Cicero I think it is who says that 
a lawyer should know everything, for sooner or later there 
is no fact in history, in science, or of human knowledge 

Argument and Persuasion 329 

that will not come into play in his arguments. Painfully 
sensible of my ignorance, being devoted to a profession 
which "sharpens and does not enlarge the mind," I yet 
can admire without envy the superior knowledge evinced 
by the honorable manager. Indeed, upon my soul, I 
believe he is aware of an astronomical fact which many 
professors of that science are wholly ignorant of. But 
nevertheless, while some of his honorable colleagues were 
paying attention to an unoccupied and unappropriated 
island on the surface of the seas, Mr. Manager Boutwell, 
more ambitious, had discovered an untenanted and unap- 
propriated region in the skies, reserved, he would have us 
think, in the final councils of the Almighty, as the place 
of punishment for convicted and deposed American Presi- 

At first I thought that his mind had become so "enlarged" 
that it was not "sharp" enough to discover the Constitu- 
tion had Hmited the punishment ; but on reflection I saw 
that he was as legal and logical as he was ambitious and 
astronomical, for the Constitution has said "removal from 
office," and has put no limit to the distance of the removal, 
so that it may be, without shedding a drop of his blood, or 
taking a penny of his property, or confining his limbs, 
instant removal from ofl&ce and transportation to the skies. 
Truly, this is a great undertaking; and if the learned 
manager can only get over the obstacles of the laws of na- 
ture the Constitution will not stand in his way. He can 
contrive no method but that of a convulsion of the earth 
that shall project the deposed President to this infinitely 
distant space ; but a shock of nature of so vast an energy 
and for so great a result on him might unsettle even the 

330 Public Speaking 

footing of the firm members of Congress. We certainly 
need not resort to so perilous a method as that. How shall 
we accomplish it ? ' Why, in the first place, nobody knows 
where that space is but the learned manager himself, and he 
is the necessary deputy to execute the judgment of the court. 
Let it then be provided that in case of your sentence of 
deposition and removal from office the honorable and 
astronomical manager shall take into his own hands the 
execution of the sentence. With the President made fast 
to his broad and strong shoulders, and, having already es- 
sayed the flight by imagination, better prepared than any- 
body else to execute it in form, taking the advantage of 
ladders as far as ladders will go to the top of this great 
Capitol, and spurning then with his foot the crest of Lib- 
erty, let him set out upon his flight, while the two houses 
of Congress and all the people of the United States shaU 
shout, "Sic itur ad astra." 


But here a distressing doubt strikes me; how will the 
manager get back ? He will have got far beyond the reach 
of gravitation to restore him, and so ambitious a wing as his 
could never stoop to a downward flight. Indeed, as he 
passes through the constellations, that famous question 
of Carlyle by which he derides the littleness of human 
affairs upon the scale of the measure of the heavens, "What 
thinks Boeotes as he drives his dogs up the zenith in their 
race of sidereal fire ? " will force itself on his notice. What, 
indeed, would Boeotes think of this new constellation? 

Besides, reaching this space, beyond the power of Con- 
gress even "to send for persons and papers," how shall 

Argument and Persuasion 331 

he return, and how decide in the contest, there become per- 
sonal and perpetual, the struggle of strength between him 
and the President? In this new revolution, thus estab- 
lished forever, who shall decide which is the sim and which 
is the moon ? Who determine the only scientific test which 
reflects the hardest upon the other ? 

Mr. Chief Justice and Senators, we have come all at 
once to the great experiences and trials of a full-grown 
nation, all of which we thought we should escape — the 
distractions of civil strife, the ejdiaustions of powerful war. 
We could summon from the people a million of men and 
inexhaustible treasure to help the Constitution in its time of 
need. Can we summon now resources enough of civil pru- 
dence and of restraint of passion to carry us through this 
trial, so that whatever result may follow, in whatever form, 
the people may feel that the Constitution has received no 
wound ! To this court, the last and best resort for this 
determination, it is to be left. And oh, if you could only 
carry yourselves back to the spirit and the purpose and the 
wisdom and the courage of the framers of the government, 
how safe would it be in your hands ? How safe is it now 
in your hands, for you who have entered into their labors 
will see to it that the structure of your work comports in 
durability and excellence with theirs. Indeed, so familiar 
has the course of the argument made us with the names of 
the men of the convention and of the first Congress that I 
could sometimes seem to think that the presence even of the 
Chief Justice was replaced by the serene majesty of Wash- 
ington, and that from Massachusetts we had Adams and 
Ames, from Connecticut, Sherman and Ellsworth, from 
New Jersey, Paterson and Boudinot, and from New York, 

332 Public Speaking 

Hamilton and Benson, and that they were to determine 
this case for us. Act, then, as if under this serene and 
majestic presence your deliberations were to be conducted 
to their close, and the Constitution was to come out from 
the watchful soHcitude of these great guardians of it as if 
from their own judgment in this court of impeachment. 



Reprinted, with the author's permission, from a speech at a dinner of the 
Harvard Club of New York City 

By Henry E. Howland 

There should be a proper amount of modesty in one 
called upon to address such an intelligent audience of 
educated men as I see before me, and I am conscious of it 
in the same sense as the patient who said to his physician, 
"I suffer a great deal from nervous dyspepsia, and I attrib- 
ute it to the fact that I attend so many public dinners." 
"Ah, I see," said the doctor, "you are often called upon to 
speak, and the nervous apprehension upsets your digestion." 
"Not at all ; my apprehension is entirely on account of the 
other speakers; I never say a thing;" and it is with some 
hesitation that I respond to your call. 

Following out that line of thought, there is a great deal 
that is attractive in a gathering of College men. They 
have such a winsome and a winning way with them. 

Richest in endowments, foremost in progress, honored by 
the renown of a long hne of distinguished sons, the xmi- 
versity that claims you is worthy of the homage and re- 
spect which it receives from the educated men of America. 

The study of the development of the human race by 
educational processes which change by necessity under 
changing conditions and environment, is one of the most 
interesting that we can engage in. The greatest men of 


334 Public Speaking 

this country, or any other, have not always been made by 
the university, however it may be with the average. You 
cannot always tell by a man's degree what manner of man 
he is likely to be. But the value of a technical or academic 
training is apparent as time goes on, population increases, 
occupations multiply and compete, and the strife of life 
becomes more fierce and strenuous. 

Many in these days seem to prefer notoriety to fame, 
because it runs along the line of least resistance. A man 
has to climb for fame, but he can get notoriety by an easy 
tumble. And others forget the one essential necessary to 
success, of personal effort, and, assuming there is a royal 
road to learning, are content with the distinction of a degree 
from a university, without caring for what it imphes, and 
answer as the son did to his father who asked him : "Why 
don't you work, my son? If you only knew how much 
happiness work brings, you would begin at once." " Father, 
I am trying to lead a life of self-denial in which happiness 
cuts no figure ; do not tempt me." 

But notwithstanding all these tendencies, the level of 
mankind is raised at these foxmtains of learning, the tone 
is higher, and the standards are continually advanced. The 
discipline and the training reaches and acts upon a willing 
and eager army of young recruits and works its salutary 
effect, like that upon a man who listened with rapt atten- 
tion to a discourse from the pulpit and was congratulated 
upon his devotion, and asked if he was not impressed. 
"Yes," he replied, "for it is a mighty poor sermon that 
doesn't hit me somewhere." 

However discouraging the action of our governing bodies 
through the obstruction and perverse action of an ignorant 

The After-Dinner Speech 335 

or corrupt majority or minority in them may be in the 
administration of great public affairs, the time at last comes 
when the nation arouses from its lethargy, shakes off its 
torpor, shows the strain of its blood, and follows its trained 
and intelligent leaders, like the man who, in a time of sore 
distress, after the ancient fashion, put ashes on his head, 
rent his garments, tore off his coat, his waistcoat, his shirt, 
and his undershirt, and at last came to himself. At such 
times, by the universal voice of public opinion and amid 
hearty applause of the whole people, we welcome to public 
ofl&ce and the highest responsible stations such men as our 
universities have given to the country. It matters not to 
what family we belong — Harvard, Yale, Columbia, or 
Princeton — we are all of us one in our welcome to them, 
for they represent the university spirit and what it teaches 
— honor, high-mindedness, intelligence, truthfulness, un- 
selfishness, courage, and patriotism. 


Reprinted with the author's permission 

By Joseph H. Choate 

Mr. President and Gentlemen, — I came here to-night 
with some notes for a speech in my pocket, but I have 
been sitting next to General Butler, and in the course of the 
evening they have mysteriously disappeared. The conse- 
quence is, gentlemen, that you may expect a very good 
speech from him and a very poor one from me. When 
I read this toast which you have just drunk in honor 
of Her Gracious Majesty, the Queen of Great Britain, 
and heard how you received the letter of the British 
Minister that was read in response, and how heartily you 

336 Public Speaking 

joined in singing "God Save the Queen," when I look up 
and down these tables and see among you so many repre- 
sentatives of English capital and EngHsh trade, I have 
my doubts whether the evacuation of New York by the 
British was quite as thorough and lasting as history would 
fain have us beheve. If George III, who certainly did all 
he could to despoil us of our rights and liberties and bring 
us to ruin — if he could rise from his grave and see how his 
granddaughter is honored at your hands to-night, why, I 
think he would return whence he came, thanking God that 
his efforts to enslave us, in which for eight long years he 
drained the resources of the British Empire, were not 

The truth is, the boasted triumph of New York in getting 
rid of the British once and forever has proved, after all, to 
be but a dismal failure. We drove them out in one century 
only to see them return in the next to devour our substance 
and to carry off all the honors. We have just seen the 
noble Chief Justice of England, the feasted favorite of all 
America, making a triumphal tour across the Continent and 
carrying all before him at the rate of fifty miles an hour. 
Night after night at our very great cost we have been paying 
the richest tribute to the reigning monarch of the British 
stage, and nowhere in the world are English men and 
women of character and culture received with a more 
hearty welcome, a more earnest hospitaHty, than in this 
very state of New York. The truth is, that this event that 
we celebrate to-day, which sealed the independence of 
America and seemed for a time to give a staggering blow to 
the prestige and the power of England, has proved to be no 
less a blessing to her own people than to ours. The latest 

The After-Dinner Speech 337 

and best of the English historians has said that, however 
important the independence of America might be in the 
history of England, it was of overwhelming importance in 
the history of the world, and that though it might have 
crippled for a while the supremacy of the English nation, 
it founded the supremacy of the EngHsh race. And in the 
same spirit we welcome the fact that those social, poHtical, 
and material barriers that separated the two nations a 
century ago have now utterly vanished ; that year by year 
we are being drawn closer and closer together, and that 
this day may be celebrated with equal fitness on both sides 
of the Atlantic and by all who speak the English tongue. 

From " Modern Eloquence," Vol. I, Geo. L. Shuman and Company, Chicago, 


By Sib. Edwin Arnold 

When I was conversing recently with Lord Tennyson, 
he said to me : "It is bad for us that English will always 
be a spoken speech, since that means that it will always be 
changing, and so the time will come when you and I wiU 
be as hard to read for the common people as Chaucer is 
to-day." You remember what opinion your brilliant 
humorist, Artemus Ward, let fall concerning that ancient 
singer. "Mr. Chaucer," he observed casually, "is an ad- 
mirable poet, but as a speUist, a very decided failure." 

To the treasure house of that noble tongue the United 
States has splendidly contributed. It would be far poorer 
to-day without the tender Hues of Longfellow, the serene 
and philosophic pages of Emerson, the convincing wit and 
clear criticism of my illustrious departed friend, James 
Russell Lowell, the Catullus-like perfection of the lyrics 

338 Public Speaking 

of Edgar Allan Poe, and the glorious, large-tempered dithy- 
rambs of Walt Whitman. 

These stately and sacred laurel groves grow here in a 
garden forever extending, ever carrying further forward, 
for the sake of humanity, the irresistible flag of our Saxon 
supremacy, leading one to falter in an attempt to eulogize 
America and the idea of her potency and her promise. The 
most elaborate panegyric woiild seem but a weak imperti- 
nence, which would remind you, perhaps too vividly, of 
Sydney Smith, who, when he saw his grandchild pat the 
back of a large turtle, asked her why she did so. The little 
maid replied: "Grandpa, I do it to please the turtle." 
"My child," he answered, "you might as weU stroke the 
dome of St. Paul's to please the Dean and chapter." 

I myself once heard, in our Zoological gardens in London, 
another little girl ask her mamma whether it would hurt the 
elephant if she offered him a chocolate drop. In that 
guarded and respectful spirit is it that I venture to tell 
you here to-night how truly in England the peace and 
prosperity of your republic is desired, and that nothing 
except good will is felt by the mass of our people toward 
you, and nothing but the greatest satisfaction in your wealth 
and progress. 

Between these two majestic sisters of the Saxon blood 
the hatchet of war is, please God, buried. No cause of 
quarrel, I think and hope, can ever be otherwise than truly 
out of proportion to the vaster causes of affection and 
accord. We have no longer to prove to each other, or to 
the world, that Englishmen and Americans are high-spirited 
and fearless ; that Enghshmen and Americans ahke will do 
justice, and will have justice, and will put up with nothing 

The After-Dinner Speech 339 

else from each other and from the nations at large. Our 
proofs are made on both sides, and indelibly written on 
the page of history. Not that I wish to speak platitudes 
about war. It has been necessary to human progress; it 
has bred and preserved noble virtues; it has been inevitable, 
and may be again; but it belongs to a low civilization. 
Other countries have, perhaps, not yet reached that point 
of intimate contact and rational advance, but for us two, at 
least, the time seems to have come when violent decisions, 
and even talk of them, should be as much abolished between 
us as cannibahsm. 

I ventured, when in Washington, to propose to President 
Harrison that we should some day, the sooner the better, 
choose five men of public worth in the' United States, and 
five in England ; give them gold coats if you please, and a 
handsome salary, and establish them as a standing and 
supreme tribimal of arbitration, referring to them the little 
family falUngs-out of America and of England, whenever 
something goes wrong between us about a sealskin in 
Behring Strait, a lobster pot, an ambassador's letter, a 
border tariff, or an Irish vote. He showed himself very 
well disposed toward my suggestion. 

Mr. President, in the sacred hope that you take me to 
be a better poet than orator, I thank you all from the 
bottom of my heart for your reception to-night, and per- 
sonally pray for the tranquility and prosperity of this free 
and magnificent republic. 

340 Public Speaking 


From an address in Brewer's " The World's Best Orations," Vol. VII, Ferd. 
P. Kaiser, St. Louis, Chicago, publishers 

By Sir Wilfred Laueier 

Mr. Toastmaster, Mr. President, and Gentlemen, — 
I very fully and very cordially appreciate the very kind 
feelings which have just now been uttered by the toast- 
master in terms so eloquent, and which you gentlemen have 
accepted and received in so sympathetic a manner. Let 
me say at once, in the name of my fellow-Canadians who 
are here with me and also, I may say, in the name of the 
Canadian people, that these feelings we shall at all times 
reciprocate; reciprocate, not only in words evanescent, 
but in actual Kving deeds. 

Because I must say that I feel that, though the relations be- 
tween Canada and the United States are good, though they are 
brotherly, though they are satisfactory, in my judgment they 
are not as good, as brotherly, as satisfactory as they ought 
to be. We are of the same stock. We spring from the 
same races on one side of the line as on the other. We speak 
the same language. We have the same hterature, and for 
more than a thousand years we have had a common history. 

Let me recall to you the hues which, in the darkest 
days of the Civil War, the Puritan poet of America issued 
to England : — 

"Oh, Englishmen! Oh, Englishmen ! 
In hope and creed, 
In blood and tongue, are brothers, 
We all are heirs of Runnymede." 

Brothers we are, in the language of your own poet. May 
I not say that while our relations are not always as brotherly 

The After-Dinner Speecli 341 

as they should have been, may I not ask, Mr. President, on 
the part of Canada and on the part of the United States, 
if we are sometimes too prone to stand by the full concep- 
tions of our rights, and exact all our rights to the last pound 
of flesh ? May I not ask if there have not been too often 
between us petty quarrels, which happily do not wound the 
heart of the nation ? 

There was a civil war in the last century. There was a 
civil war between England, then, and her colonies. The 
union which then existed between England and her colonies 
was severed. If it was severed, American citizens, as you 
know it was, through no fault of your fathers, the fault was 
altogether the fault of the British Government of that day. 
If the British Government of that day had treated the 
American colonies as the British Government for the last 
twenty or fifty years has treated its colonies; if Great 
Britain had given you then the same degree of liberty which 
it gives to Canada, my country ; if it had given you, as it 
has given us, legislative independence absolute,— the result 
would have been different; the course of victory, the course 
of history, would have been very different. 

But what has been done cannot be undone. You 
cannot expect that the union which was then severed shall 
ever be restored; but can we not expect — can we not 
hope that the banners of England and the banners of the 
United States shall never, never again meet in conflict, 
except those conflicts provided by the arts of peace, such 
as we see to-day in the harbor of New York in the contest 
between the Shamrock and the Columbia for the supremacy 
of naval architecture and naval prowess ? Can we not hope 
that if ever the banners of England and the banners of the 

342 Public Speaking 

United States are again to meet on the battlefield, they 
shall meet entwined together in the defense of some holy 
cause, in the defense of holy justice, for the defense of the 
oppressed, for the enfranchisement of the downtrodden, 
and for the advancement of liberty, progress, and civiliza- 


From a speech in " Modern Eloquence," Vol. I, Geo. L. Shuman and Com- 
pany, Chicago, publishers 

By Paul Blotjet (Max O'Rell) 

Now, the attitude of men towards women is very different, 
according to the different nations to which they belong. 
You will find a good illustration of that different attitude 
of men toward women in France, in England, and in Amer- 
ica, if you go to the dining-rooms of their hotels. You go 
to the dining-room, and you take, if you can, a seat near 
the entrance door, and you watch the arrival of the couples, 
and also watch them as they cross the room and go to the 
table that is assigned to them by the head waiter. Now, 
in Europe, you would find a very polite head waiter, who 
invites you to go in, and asks you where you will sit; but 
in America the head waiter is a most magnificent potentate 
who lies in wait for you at the door, and bids you to follow 
him sometimes in the following respectful manner, beckon- 
ing, "There." And you have got to do it, too. 

I traveled six times in America, and I never saw a man 
so daring as not to sit there. In the tremendous hotels 
of the large cities, where you have got to go to Number 992 
or something of the sort, I generally got a Kttle entertain- 
ment out of the head waiter. He is so thoroughly per- 

The After-Dinner Speech 343 

suaded that it would never enter my head not to follow him, 
he will never look roimd to see if I am there. Why, he knows 
I am there, but I'm not. I wait my time, and when he has 
got to the end I am sitting down waiting for a chance to be 
left alone. He says, "You cannot sit here." I say: 
"Why not? What is the matter with this seat?" He 
says, "You must not sit there." I say, "I don't want a 
constitutional walk; don't bother, I'm all right." Once, 
indeed, after an article in the North American Review 
— for your head waiter in America reads reviews — a 
head waiter told me to sit where I pleased. I said, "Now, 
wait a minute, give me time to reahze that; do I under- 
stand that in this hotel I am going to sit where I like?" 
He said, "Certainly!" He was in earnest. I said, "I 
should like to sit over there at that table near the window." 
He said, "All right, come with me." When I came out, 
there were some newspaper people in the hotel waiting for 
me, and it was reported in half a column in one of the papers, 
with one of those charming headlines which are so charac- 
teristic of American joumahsm, "Max sits where he Ukes !" 
Well, I said, you go to the dining-room, you take your seat, 
and you watch the arrival of the couples, and you will 
know the position of men. In France Monsieur and 
Madame come in together abreast, as a rule arm in arm. 
They look pleasant, smile, and talk to each other. They 
smile at each other, even though married. 

In England, in the same class of hotel, John Bull comes 
in first. He does not look happy. John Bull loves privacy. 
He does not like to be obHged to eat in the presence of lots 
of people who have not been introduced to him, and he 
thinks it very hard he should not have the whole dining- 

344 Public Speaking 

room to himself. That man, though, mind you, in his own 
house undoubtedly the most hospitable, the most kind, the 
most considerate of hosts in the world, that man in the 
dining-room of a hotel always comes in with a frown. He 
does not like it, he grumbles, and mild and demure, with 
her hands hanging down, modestly follows Mrs. John Bull. 
But in America, behold the arrival of Mrs. Jonathan! 
behold her triumphant entry, pulling Jonathan behind ! 
Well, I like my own country, and I cannot help thinking 
that the proper and right way is the French. Ladies, you 
know all our shortcomings. Our hearts are exposed ever 
since the rib which covered them was taken off. Yet we 
ask you kindly to allow us to go through life with you, like 
the French, arm in arm, in good friendship and camaraderie. 


From " The New South," with the permission of Henry W. Grady, Jr. 

By Henhy W. Grady 

Pardon me one word, Mr. President, spoken for the sole 
purpose of getting into the volumes that go out annually 
freighted with the rich eloquence of your speakers — the 
fact that the Cavalier as well as the Puritan was on the 
continent in its early days, and that he was "up and able 
to be about." I have read your books carefully and I find 
no mention of that fact, which seems to me an important 
one for preserving a sort of historical equihbrium if for 
nothing else. Let me remind you that the Virginia Cavalier 
first challenged France on this continent — that Cavalier, 
John Smith, gave New England its very name, and was so 
pleased with the job that he has been handing his own 
name around ever since — and that while Miles Standish 

The After-Dinner Speech 345 

was cutting off men's ears for courting a girl without her 
parents' consent, and forbade men to kiss their wives on 
Sunday, the Cavalier was courting everything in sight, 
and that the Almighty had vouchsafed great increase to 
the Cavalier colonies, the huts in the wilderness being full 
as the nests in the woods. 

But having incorporated the Cavalier as a fact in your 
charming Uttle books, I shall let him work out his own 
salvation, as he always has done with engaging gallantry, 
and we will hold no controversy as to his merits. Why 
should we ? Neither Puritan nor Cavalier long survive as 
such. The virtues and traditions of both happily still live 
for the inspiration of their sons and the saving of the old 
fashion. But both Puritan and Cavalier were lost in the 
storm of the first Revolution; and the American citizen, 
supplanting both and stronger than either, took possession 
of the RepubUc bought by their common blood and fash- 
ioned to wisdom, and charged himself with teaching men 
government and establishing the voice of the people as the 
voice of God. 

My friend Dr. Talmage has told you that the typical 
American has yet to come. Let me tell you that he has 
already come. Great t}T)es, like valuable plants, are 
slow to flower and fruit. But from the union of these colo- 
nist Puritans and Cavaliers, from the straightening of their 
purposes and the crossing of their blood, slow perfecting 
through a century, came he who stands as the first typical 
American, the first who comprehended within himself all 
the strength and gentleness, all the majesty and grace, of 
this Republic — Abraham Lincoln. He was the sum of 
Puritan and Cavalier, for in his ardent nature were fused 

346 Public Speaking 

the virtues of both, and in the depths of his great soul the 
faults of both were lost. He was greater than Puritan, 
greater than Cavaher, in that he was American, and in that 
in his homely form were first gathered the vast and thrilling 
forces of his ideal government — charging it with such 
tremendous meaning and so elevating it above human 
suffering that martyrdom, though infamously aimed, came 
as a fitting crown to a Ufe consecrated from the cradle to 
human Hberty. Let us, each cherishing the traditions and 
honoring his fathers, build with reverent hands to the type 
of this simple but sublime life, in which all types are hon- 
ored ; and in our common glory as Americans there will be 
plenty and to spare for your forefathers and for mine. 


Reprinted with the author's permission 

By Joseph H. Choate 

I really don't know, at this late hour, Mr. Chairman, 
how you expect me to treat this difficult and tender subject. 

I might take up the subject etymologically, and try and 
explain how woman ever acquired that remarkable name. 
But that has been done before me by a poet with whose 
stanzas you are not familiar, but whom you will recognize 
as deeply versed in this subject, for he says : — 

"When Eve brought woe to all mankind, 
Old Adam called her woe-man, 
But when she woo'd with love so kind, 
He then pronounced her woman. 

"But now, with folly and with pride, 
Their husbands' pockets trimming, 
The ladies are so full of whims 
That people call them w(h)imen." 

The After-Dinner Speech 347 

Mr. Chairman, I believe you said I should say something 
about the Pilgrim mothers. Well, sir, it is rather late in 
the evening to venture upon that historic subject. But, 
for one, I pity them. The occupants of the galleries will 
bear me witness that even these modem Pilgrims — these 
Pilgrims with all the modern improvements — how hard 
it is to put up with their weaknesses, their folUes, their 
tyrannies, their oppressions, their desire of dominion and 
rule. But when you go back to the stern horrors of the 
Pilgrim rule, when you contemplate the rugged character of 
the Pilgrim fathers, why, you give credence to what a witty 
woman of Boston said — she had heard enough of the glories 
and sufferings of the Pilgrim fathers ; for her part, she had 
a world of s3Tnpathy for the Pilgrim mothers, because they 
not only endured all that the Pilgrim fathers had done, 
but they also had to endure the Pilgrim fathers to boot. 
Well, sir, they were afraid of woman. They thought she 
was almost too refined a luxury for them to indulge in. 
Miles Standish spoke for them all, and I am sure that 
General Sherman, who so much resembles Miles Standish, 
not only in his military renown but in his rugged exterior 
and in his warm and tender heart, will echo his words when 
he says : — 

"I can march up to a fortress, and summon the place to surrender, 
But march up to a woman with such a proposal, I dare not. 
I am not afraid of bullets, nor shot from the mouth of a cannon, 
But of a thundering 'No !' point-blank from the mouth of a woman, 
That I confess I'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it." 

Mr. President, did you ever see a more self-satisfied or 
contented set of men than these that are gathered at these 
tables this evening? I never come to the Pilgrim dinner 

S48 Public Speaking 

and see these men, who have achieved in the various 
departments of life such definite and satisfactory success, 
but that I look back twenty or thirty or forty years, and see 
the lantern-jawed boy who started out from the banks of 
the Connecticut, or some more remote river of New Eng- 
land, with five dollars in his pocket and his father's blessing 
on his head and his mother's Bible in his carpetbag, to 
seek those fortunes which now they have so gloriously 
made. And there is one woman whom each of these, 
through all his progress and to the last expiring hour of his 
life, bears in tender remembrance. It is the mother who 
sent him forth with her blessing. A mother is a mother 
still — the hoUest thing alive; and if I could dismiss you 
with a benediction to-night, it would be by invoking upon 
the heads of you all the blessing of the mothers that we 
left behind us. 


From "Modern Eloquence," Vol. Ill, Geo. L. Shuman and Company, 
Chicago, publishers 

By E. O. Wolcott 

Mr. President and Gentlemen, — It was with great 
diffidence that I accepted the invitation of your President 
to respond to a toast to-night. I realized my incapacity 
to do justice to the occasion, while at the same time I 
recognized the high compliment conveyed. I felt somewhat 
as the man did respecting the Shakespeare-Bacon contro- 
versy ; he said he didn't know whether Lord Bacon wrote 
Shakespeare's works or not, but if he didn't, he missed the 
greatest opportunity of his life. 

We are a plain people, and live far away. We are pro- 

The After-Dinner Speech 349 

vincial; we have no distinctive literature and no great 
poets ; our leading personage abroad of late seems to be the 
Honorable "Buffalo Bill"; and we use our adjectives so 
recklessly that the polite badinage indulged in toward 
each other by your New York editors to us seems tame and 
spiritless. In mental achievement we may not have fully 
acquired the use of the fork, and are "but in the gristle 
and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood." We 
stand toward the East somewhat as country to city cousin ; 
about as New to Old England, only we don't feel half so 
badly about it, and on the whole are rather pleased with 
ourselves. There is not in the whole broad West a ranch 
so lonely or so remote that a public school is not within 
reach of it. With generous help from the East, Western 
colleges are elevating and directing Western thought, and 
men busy making States yet find time to Hve manly lives 
and to lend a hand. All this may not be aesthetic, but it 
is virile, and it leads up and not down. 

There are some things more important than the highest 
culture. The West is the Almighty's reserve ground, and 
as the world is filling up, He is turning even the old arid 
plains and deserts into fertile acres, and is sending there 
the rain as well as the sunshine. A high and glorious 
destiny awaits us ; soon the balance of population will lie 
the other side of the Mississippi, and the millions that are 
coming must find waiting for them schools and churches, 
good government, and a happy people : — 

"Who love the land because it is their own, 
And scorn to give aught other reason why ; 
Would shake hands with a King upon his throne, 
And think it kindness to his Majesty." 

350 Public Speaking 

In everything which pertains to progress in the West, 
the Yankee reenforcements step rapidly to the front. 
Every year she needs more of them, and as the country 
grows the annual demand becomes greater. Genuine New 
Englanders are to be had on tap only in six small States, and 
remembering this we feel that we have the right to demand 
that in the future, even more than in the past, the heads 
of the New England households weary not in the good work. 

In these days of "booms" and New Souths and Great 
Wests, when everybody up North who fired a gim is made 
to feel that he ought to apologize for it, and good fellowship 
everyT^here abounds, there is a sort of tendency to fuse; 
only big and conspicuous things are much considered; 
and New England being smaU in area and most of her 
distinguished people being dead, she is just now somewhat 
under an eclipse. But in her past she has imdying fame. 
You of New England and her borders live always in the 
atmosphere of her glories; the scenes which teU of her 
achievements are ever near at hand, and familiarity and 
contact may rob them of their charms, and dim to your 
eyes their sacredness. The sons of New England in the 
West revisit her as men who make pilgrimage to some holy 
shrine, and her hills and valleys are still instinct with noble 
traditions. In her glories and her history we claim a com- 
mon heritage, and we never wander so far away from her 
that, with each recurring anniversary of this day, our 
hearts do not turn to her with renewed love and devotion 
for our beloved New England; yet — 

"Not by Eastern windows only, 

When daylight comes, comes in the light ; 
In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly, 
But Westward, look, the land is bright ! " 

The After-Dinner Speech 351 


From "Modern Eloquence/' Vol. Ill, Geo. L. Shuman and Company, 
Chicago, publishers 

By Theodore Tilton 

You must not forget, Mr. President, in eulogizing the 
early men of New England, who are your clients to-night, 
that it was only through the help of the early women of 
New England, who are mine, that your boasted heroes 
could ever have earned their title of the Pilgrim Fathers. 
A health, therefore, to the women in the cabin of the May- 
flower! A cluster of Mayflowers themselves, transplanted 
from summer in the old world to winter in the new ! Coimt- 
ing over those matrons and maidens, they numbered, all 
told, just eighteen. Their names are now written among 
the heroines of history ! For as over the ashes of Cornelia 
stood the epitaph "The Mother of the Gracchi," so over 
these women of the Pilgrimage we write as proudly "The 
Mothers of the Republic." There was good Mistress 
Bradford, whose feet were not allowed of God to kiss Pl3Tn- 
outh Rock, and who, like Moses, came only near enough 
to see but not to enter the Promised Land. She was washed 
overboard from the deck — and to this day the sea is her 
grave and Cape Cod her monument ! There was Mistress 
Carver, wife of the first governor, who, when her hus- 
band fell under the stroke of sudden death, followed him 
first with heroic grief to the grave, and then, a fortnight 
after, followed him with heroic joy up into Heaven ! There 
was Mistress White -^the mother of the first child born to 
the New England Pilgrims on this continent. And it was 
a good omen, sir, that this historic babe was brought into 
the world on board the Mayflower between the time of the 

352 Public Speaking 

casting of her anchor and the landing of her passengers — 
a kind of amphibious prophecy that the newborn nation 
was to have a birthright inheritance over the sea and over 
the land. There also was Rose Standish, whose name is 
a perpetual June fragrance, to mellow and sweeten those 
December winds. 

Then, after the first vessel with these women, there came 
other women — loving hearts drawn from the olden land 
by those silken threads which afterwards harden into golden 
chains. For instance, Governor Bradford, a lonesome 
widower, went down to the seabeach, and, facing the waves, 
tossed a love letter over the wide ocean into the lap of 
Alice Southworth in old England, who caught it up, and 
read it, and said, "Yes, I will go." And she went ! And 
it is said that the governor, at his second wedding, married 
his first love ! Which, according to the New Theology, fur- 
nishes the providential reason why the first Mrs. Bradford 
feU overboard ! 

Now, gentlemen, as you sit to-night in this elegant hall, 
think of the houses in which the Mayflower men and women 
lived in that first winter ! Think of a cabin in the wilder- 
ness — where winds whistled — where wolves howled — 
where Indians yelled ! And yet, within that log house, 
burning Hke a lamp, was the pure flame of Christian faith, 
love, patience, fortitude, heroism ! As the Star of the 
East rested over the rude manger where Christ lay, so — 
speaking not irreverently — there rested over the roofs of 
the Pilgrims a Star of the West — the Star of Empire; 
and to-day that empire is the proudest in the world ! 

And now, to close, let me give you just a bit of good 
advice. The cottages of our forefathers had few pictures 

The After-Dinner Speech 353 

on the walls, but many families had a print of "King 
Charles's Twelve Good Rules," the eleventh of which was, 
"Make no long meals." Now King Charles lost his head, 
and you will have leave to make a long meal. But when, 
after your long meal, you go home in the wee small hours, 
what do you expect to find? You wiU find my toast — 
"Woman, a beautiful rod !" Now my advice is, "Kiss the 


Reprinted with the author's permission 

By Horace Porter 

The story of the life of Abraham Lincoln savors more of 
romance than reality. It is more like a fable of the ancient 
days than the story of a plain American of the nineteenth 
centaury. The singular vicissitudes in the life of our mar- 
tyred President surrotmd him with an interest which at- 
taches to few men in history. He sprang from that class 
which he always alluded to as the "plain people," and never 
attempted to disdain them. He believed that the govern- 
ment was made for the people, not the people for the gov- 
ernment. He felt that true Republicanism is a torch — 
the more it is shaken in the hands of the people the brighter 
it will burn. He was transcendently fit to be the first 
successful standard bearer of the progressive, aggressive, 
invincible Republican party. He might well have said to 
those who chanced to sneer at his humble origin what a 
marshal of France raised from the ranks said to the haughty 
nobles of Vienna boasting of their long line of descent, when 
they refused to associate with him: "I am an ancestor; 
you are only descendants !" He was never guilty of any 

354 Public Speaking 

posing for effect, any attitudinizing in public, any mawkish 
sentimentality, any of that puppjdsm so often bred by power, 
that dogmatism which Johnson said was only puppyism 
grown to maturity. He made no claim to knowledge he did 
not possess. He felt with Addison that pedantry and learn- 
ing are like hypocrisy in religion — the form of knowledge 
without the power of it. He had nothing in common with 
those men of mental malformation who are educated beyond 
their intellects. 

The names of Washington and Lincoln are inseparably 
associated, and yet as the popular historian would have us 
believe one spent his entire life in chopping down acorn 
trees and the other split,ting them up into rails. Washing- 
ton could not teU a story. Lincoln always could. And 
Lincoln's stories always possessed the true geometrical 
requisites, they were never too long, and never too broad. 

But his heart was not always attuned to mirth ; its chords 
were often set to strains of sadness. Yet throughout all 
his trials he never lost the courage of his convictions. 
When he was surrounded on all sides by doubting Thomases, 
by imbelieving Saracens, by discontented Catilines, his faith 
was strongest. As the Danes destroyed the hearing of their 
war horses in order that they might not be affrighted by the 
din of battle, so Lincoln turned a deaf ear to aU that might 
have discoiuraged him, and exhibited an unwavering faith 
in the justice of the cause and the integrity of the Union. 

It is said that for three hundred years after the battie of 
Thermopylae every child in the public schools of Greece 
T/(ras required to recite from memory the names of the three 
hundred martyrs who fell in the defense of that pass. It 
would be a crowning triiunph in patriotic education if every 

The After-Dinner Speech 355 

school child in America could contemplate each day the grand 
character and utter the inspiring name of Abraham Lincoln, 
who has handed down unto a grateful people the richest 
legacy which man can leave to man — the memory of a 
good name, the inheritance of a great example ! 


From a speech at a dinner of graduates of Yale University, in New York, 
1889. By the kindness of the author 

By Henry E. Howland 

On Boston Common, under the shadow of the State 
House, and within the atmosphere of Harvard University, 
there is an inscription on a column, in honor of those who, 
on land and sea, maintained the cause of their coimtry dur- 
ing four years of civil war. The visitor approaches it with 
respect and reverently imcovers as he reads. 

With similar high emotions we, as citizens of the world of 
letters, and acknowledging particular allegiance to the 
province thereof foimded by Elihu Yale, are assembled to 
pour libations, to partake of a sacrificial feast, and to crown 
with honors and with bays those who, on land and sea, with 
imparalleled courage and devotion, have borne their flag 
to victory in desperate encounters. 

Peace hath her victories no less renowned than war. 

On large fields of strife, the record of success like that 

which we are caUod upon to commemorate would give the 

victors a high place in history and liken their country to 

ancient Thebes, — 

" Which spread her conquest o'er a thousand states. 
And poured her heroes through a hundred gates." 

There are many reasons why Yale men win. One is that 

356 Public Speaking 

which was stated by Lord Beaconsfield, "The Secret of 
success is constancy of purpose." That alone sufficiently 
accounts for it. 

We are here present in no vain spirit of boasting, though 
if our right to exalt ourselves were questioned, we might 
reply in the words of the American girl who was shown some 
cannon at Woolwich Arsenal, the sergeant in charge re- 
marking, "You know we took them from you at Bimker 
HiU." "Yes," she replied, "I see you've got the cannon, 
but I guess we've got the hill." 

We come rather in a spirit of true modesty to recognize 
the plaudits of an admiring world, to tell you how they were 
won. It was said in the days of Athenian pride and glory 
that it was easier to find a god in Athens than a man. We 
must be careful in these days of admiration of athletic effort 
that no such imputation is laid upon us, and that the deifi- 
cation of the human form divine is not carried to extremes. 

It is a curious coincidence that a love of the classics and 
proficiency in intellectual pursuits should coexist with ad- 
miration for physical perfection and with athletic superiority 
during aU the centuries of which the history is written. The 
youth who lisped in Attic numbers and was brought up on 
the language we now so painfully and imperfectly acquire, 
who was lulled to sleep by songs of .^schylus and Sophocles, 
who discussed philosophy in the porches of Plato, Aristotle, 
and Epicurus, was a more accomplished classical scholar 
than the most learned pundit of modern times, and was a 
model of manly beauty, yet he would have died to win the 
wreath of parsley at the Olympian games, which all es- 
teemed an immortal prize. While, in our time, to be the 
winning crew on the Isis, the Cam, the English or American 

The After-Dinner Speech 357 

Thames, is equal in honor and influence to the position of 
senior wrangler, valedictorian, or Deforest prize man. 

The man who wins the world's honors to-day must not be 
overtrained mentally or physically ; not, as John Randolph 
said of the soil of Virginia, — "poor by nature and ruined 
by cultivation," hoUow-chested, convex in back, imperfect 
in sight, shuffling in gait, and flabby in muscle. The work 
of such a man will be musty like his closet, narrow as the 
groove he moves in, tinctured with the peculiarities that 
border on insanity, and out of tune with nature. 

No man can work in the world unless he knows it, struggles 
with it, and becomes a part of it, and the statement of the 
EngUsh statesman that the imdergraduate of Oxford or 
Cambridge who had the best stomach, the hardest muscles, 
and the greatest ambition would be the futmre Lord Chan- 
cellor of England, had a solid basis of truth. 

Gentlemen of the bat, the oar, the racquet, the cinder 
path, and the leathern sphere, never were conquerors more 
welcome guests, in palace or in hall, at the tables of their 
friends than you are here. 

You come with your laurels fresh from the fields you 
have won, to receive the praise which is your due and which 
we so gladly bestow. Your self-denial, devotion, skill, and 
coiirage have brought honor to your University, and for it 
we honor you. 



Read by Mr. Watson in New York, at the celebration of the Dickens 
Centenary, 1912. Reprinted from the public press 

By William Watson 

When Nature first designed 
In her all-procreant mind 

The man whom here to-night we are met to honor — 
When first the idea of Dickens flashed upon her — 
"Where, where," she said, "upon my populous earth 
Shall this prodigious child be brought to birth ? 
Where shall we have his earHest wondering look 
Into my magic book ? 

Shall he be born where life runs like a brook, 
Pleasant and placid as of old it ran, 
Far from the sound and shock of mighty deeds, 
Among soft EngKsh meads ? 
Or shall he first my pictured volume scan 
Where London lifts its hot and fevered brow 
For cooling night to fan?" 
"Nay, nay," she said, "I have a happier plan 
For where at Portsmouth, on the embattled tides 
The ships of war step out with thundering prow 
And shake their stormy sides — 
In yonder place of arms, whose gaunt sea wall 
Flings to the clouds the far-heard bugle call — 
He shall be born amid the drums and guns, 


The Occasional Poem 359 

He shall be born among my fighting sons, 
Perhaps the greatest warrior of them all." 


So there, where from the forts and battle gear 

And all the proud sea babbles Nelson's name, 

Into the world this later hero came — 

He, too, a man that knew all moods but fear — 

He, too, a fighter. Yet not his the strife 

That leaves dark scars on the fair face of life. 

He did not fight to rend the world apart ; 

He fought to make it one in mind and heart. 

Building a broad and noble bridge to span 

The icy chasm that simders man from man. 

Wherever wrong had fixed its bastions deep, 

There did his fierce yet gay assault surprise 

Some fortress girt with lucre or with lies ; 

There his light battery stormed some ponderous keep ; 

There charged he up the steep, 

A knight on whom no palsying torpor fell, 

Keen to the last to break a lance with Hell. 

And still imdimmed his conquering weapons shine ; 

On his bright sword no spot of rust appears. 

And still across the years 

His soul goes forth to battle, and in the face 

Of whatso'er is false, or cruel, or base, 

He hurls his gage and leaps among the spears, 

Being armed with pity and love and scorn divine. 

Immortal laughter and immortal tears. 

360 Public Speaking 

By Thomas Campbell 

Ye Mariners of England 

That guard our native seas ! 

Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, 

The battle and the breeze ! 

Your glorious standard launch again 

To match another foe : 

And sweep through the deep, 

While the stormy winds do blow ; 

While the battle rages loud and long 

And the stormy winds do blow. 

The spirit of your fathers 
Shall start from every wave. 
For the deck it is our field of fame, 
And Ocean was their grave : 
Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell 
Your manly heart shall glow, 
As ye sweep through the deep. 
While the stormy winds do blow ; 
While the battle rages loud and long 
And the stormy winds do blow. 

Britannia needs no bulwarks, 

No towers along the steep ; 

Her march is o'er the moxmtain waves, 

Her home is on the deep. 

With thunders from her native oak 

She quells the floods below, 

As they roar on the shore, 

The Occasional Poem 361 

When the stormy winds do blow ; 
When the battle rages loud and long 
And the stormy winds do blow. 

The meteor-flag of England 

Shall yet terrific burn ; 

Till danger's troubled night depart 

And the star of peace return. 

Then, then, ye ocean warriors ! 

Our song and feast shall flow 

To the fame of your name, 

When the storm has ceased to blow ; 

When the fiery fight is heard no more, 

And the storm has ceased to blow. 


Read in Sanders Theater at the Harvard Class Day Exercises, 1903. Re 
printed with permission 

By Langdon Warner 

Not unto every one of us shall come 

The bugle call that sounds for famous deeds ; 
Not far lands, but the pleasant paths of home, 

Not broad seas to trafiic, but the meads 
Of fruitful midland ways, where daily Hfe 

Down trelHsed vistas, heavy in the Fall, 
Seems but the decent way apart from strife ; 

And love, and work, and laughter there seem all. 

War, and the Orient Sun uprising. 

The East, the West, and Man's shrill clamorous strife, 
Travail, disaster, flood, and far emprising, 

Man may not reach, yet take fast hold on life. 

362 Public Speaking 

Let us now praise men who are not famous, 
Striving for good name rather than for great ; 

Hear we the quiet voice calling to claim us, 
Heed it no less than the trumpet-call of fate ! 

Profit we to-day by the men who've gone before us, 
Men who dared, and lived, and died, to speed us on our 

Fair is their fame, who make that mighty chorus, 
And gentle is the heritance that comes to us to-day. 

They pulled with the strength that was in them. 

But 'twas not for the pewter cup. 
And not for the fame 'twould win them 

When the length of the race was up. 
For the college stood by the river, 

And they heard, with cheeks that glowed. 
The voice of the coxswain calling 

At the end of the course — "Well rowed !" 

We have pulled at the sweep and run at the games, 
We have striven to stand to our boyhood aims, 
And we know the worth of our fathers' names ; 

Shall we have less care for our own ? 
The praise of men they dared despise. 
They set the game above the prize. 
Must we fear to look in our fathers' eyes, 

Nor reap where they have sown ? 

Do we lose the zest we've known before ? 
The joy of rmrning ? — The kick of the oar 
When the ash sweeps buckle and bend ? 

The Occasional Poem 363 

Is tie goal too far ? — Too hard to gain ? 
We know that the candle is not the play, 
We know the reward is not to-day, 

And may not come at the end. 

But we hear the voice of each bygone class 
From the river's bank when our own crews pass, 

And the backs of the men are bowed, 
With a steady lift and a squandering strength, 
For the heave that shall drive us a nation's length. 

Till the coxswain calls — "Well rowed." 

Now aU to the tasks that may find us — 

To the saddle, the home, or the sea. 
Still hearing the voices behind us 

The voices that set us free ; 
Free to be bound by our honor. 

Free to our birthright of toil. 
The masters, and slaves, of the nation, 

The Serfs, and the Lords, of the soil ! 

Proudly we lift the burdens 

That humbled the ages past. 
And pray to the God that gave them 

We may bear them on to the last ; 

That oiu: sons and our yoimger brothers, 

When our gaps in the front they fill, 
May know that the class has faltered not, 

And the line is even still. 

Then out to the wind and weather ! 
Down the course our fathers showed, 

364 Public Speaking 

And finish well together, 
As the coxswain calls — "Well rowed !" 


Harvard Class Poem, 1907, Houghton MiflSin Company, Boston, publishers. 
Reprinted with permission 

By Hermann Hagedoen, Jr. 

There's a tramphng of hoofs in the busy street, 
There's a clanking of sabers on floor and stair, 

There's a sound of restless, hurrying feet, 

Of voices that whisper, of hps that entreat, — 
Will they hve, will they die, will they strive, will they 
dare ? — 

The houses are garlanded, flags flutter gay. 

For a troop of the Guard rides forth to-day. 

Oh, the troopers will ride and their hearts will leap. 

When it's shoulder to shoulder and friend to friend — 
But it's some to the pinnacle, some to the deep, 
And some in the glow of their strength to sleep. 

And for all it's a fight to the tale's far end. 
And it's each to his goal, nor turn nor sway. 
When the troop of the Guard rides forth to-day. 

The dawn is upon us, the pale light speeds 

To the zenith with glamour and golden dart. 
On, up ! Boot and saddle ! Give spurs to your steeds .' 
There's a city beleaguered that cries for men's deeds, 
With the pain of the world in its cavernous heart. 

Ours be the triumph ! Humanity calls ! 
Life's not a dream in the clover ! 

The Occasional Poem 365 

On to the walls, on to the walls, 
On to the walls, and over ! 

The wine is spent, the tale is spun, 

The revelry of youth is done. 

The horses prance, the bridles clink. 

While maidens fair in bright array 

With us the last sweet goblet drink, 

Then bid us, "Mount and away !" 

Into the dawn, we ride, we ride, 

Fellow and fellow, side by side ; 

Galloping over the field and hill, 

Over the marshland, stalwart still, 

Into the forest's shadowy hush, 

Where specters walk in sunless day, 

And in dark pool and branch and bush 

The treacherous will-o'-the-wisp lights play. 

Out of the wood 'neath the risen sun, 

Weary we gallop, one and one, 

To a richer hope and a stronger foe 

And a hotter fight in the fields below — 

Each man his own slave, each his lord, 

For the golden spurs and the victor's sword ! 

An anxious generation sends us forth 

On the far conquest of the thrones of might. 

From west to east, from south to north. 

Earth's children, weary-eyed from too much light, 

Cry from their dream-forsaken vales of pain, 

"Give us our gods, give us our gods again !" 

A lofty and relentless century, 

Gazing with Argus eyes, 

366 Public Speaking 

Has pierced the very inmost halls of faith ; 

And left no shelter whither man may flee 

From the cold storms of night and lovelessness and death. 

Old gods have fallen and the new must rise ! 

Out of the dust of doubt and broken creeds, 

The sons of those who cast men's idols low 

Must build up for a hungry people's needs 

New gods, new hopes, new strength to toil and grow ; 

Knowing that nought that ever lived can die, — 

No act, no dream but spreads its sails, sublime, 

Sweeping across the visible seas of time 

Into the treasure-haven of eternity. 

The portals are open, the white road leads 

Through thicket and garden, o'er stone and sod. 
On, up ! Boot and saddle ! Give spurs to your steeds ! 
There's a city beleaguered that cries for men's deeds. 

For the faith that is strength and the love that is God ! 

On, through the dawning ! Humanity caUs ! 
Life's not a dream in the clover ! 

On to the walls, on to the walls. 
On to the walls, and over ! 


At a dass reunion. By permission of, and by special arrangement with, 
Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of this author's works 

By Oliver Wendell Holmes 

Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ? 
If there has, take him out, without making a noise. 
Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite ! 
Old Time is a liar ! We're twenty to-night ! 

The Occasional Poem 367 

We're twenty ! We're twenty ! Who says we are more ? 
He's tipsy, — young jackanapes ! — show him the door ! 
' Gray temples at twenty ? ' — Yes ! white if we please ; 
Where the snowflakes fall thickest there's nothing can 
freeze ! 

Was it snowing I spoke of ? Excuse the mistake ! 
Look close, — you will see not a sign of a flake ! 
We want some new garlands for those we have shed, — 
And these are white roses in place of the red. 

We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told. 
Of talking (in public) as if we were old : — 
That boy we call 'Doctor,' and this we call 'Judge' ; 
It's a neat little fiction, — of course it's all fudge. 

That fellow's the 'Speaker,' — the one on the right : 
'Mr. Mayor,' my yoimg one, how are you to-night? 
That's our 'Member of Congress,' we say when we chaff ; 
There's the 'Reverend' What's his name? — don't make 
me laugh. 

That boy with the grave mathematical look 
Made believe he had written a wonderful book. 
And the Royal Society thought it was trtie! 
So they chose him right in ; a good Joke it was, too .' 

There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain, 
That could harness a team with a logical chain ; 
When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire. 
We called him 'The Justice,' but now he's 'The Squire.' 

368 Public Speaking 

And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith, — 
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith ; 
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free, — 
Just read on his medal, 'My country,' 'of thee !' 

You hear that boy laughing ? — You think he's all fun ; 
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done ; 
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call. 
And the poor man that knows hitn laughs loudest of all ! 

Yes, we're boys, — always playing with tongue or with 

And I sometimes have asked, — Shall we ever be men ? 
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay, 
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away ? 

Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray ! 
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ! 
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys. 
Dear Father, take care of thy children, the Boys ! 



From "The Orations and Addresses of George William Curtis," Vol. I. 
Copyright 1893, by Harper and Brothers. Reprinted with permission 

By George William Curtis 

It is especially necessary for us to perceive the vital 
relation of individual courage and character to the conmion 
welfare, because ours is a government of public opinion, 
and public opinion is but the aggregate of individual 
thought. We have the awful responsibility as a com- 
munity of doing what we choose; and it is of the last 
importance that we choose to do what is wise and right. 
In the early days of the antislavery agitation a meeting 
was called at Faneuil Hall, in Boston, which a good- 
natured mob of sailors was hired to suppress. They took 
possession of the floor and danced breakdowns and shouted 
choruses and refused to hear any of the orators upon the 
platform. The most eloquent pleaded with them in vain. 
They were urged by the memories of the Cradle of Liberty, 
for the honor of Massachusetts, for their own honor as 
Boston boys, to respect liberty of speech. But they still 
laughed and sang and danced, and were proof against 
every appeal. At last a man suddenly arose from among 
themselves, and began to speak. Struck by his tone and 
quaint appearance, and with the thought that he might 
be one of themselves, the mob became suddenly still. 

2B 369 

370 Public Speaking 

"Well, fellow-citizens," he said, "I woudn't be qmet if 
I didn't want to." The words were greeted with a roar 
of delight from the mob, which supposed it had found 
its champion, and the applause was imceasing for five 
minutes, during which the strange orator tranquilly awaited 
his chance to continue. The wish to hear more hushed 
the tiomult, and when the hall was still he resumed : "No, 
I certainly wouldn't stop if I hadn't a mind to ; but then, 
if I were you, I would have a mind to ! " The oddity of 
the remark and the earnestness of the tone, held the crowd 
silent, and the speaker continued, "not because this is 
Faneuil Hall, nor for the honor of Massachusetts, nor 
because you are Boston boys, but because you are men, 
and because honorable and generous men always love fair 
play." The mob was conquered. Free speech and fair 
play were secured. Public opinion can do what it has a 
mind to in this country. If it be debased and demoraHzed, 
it is the most odious of tjnrants. It is Nero and CaHgula 
multiplied by millions. Can there then be a more strin- 
gent public duty for every man — and the greater the intel- 
ligence the greater the duty — than to take care^ by all 
the influence he can command, that the country, the 
majority, public opinion, shall have a mind to do only what 
is just and pure and humane? 


From " The New South." Reprinted with pennission 

By Henry W. Grady 

Permitted, through your kindness, to catch my second 
wind, let me say that I appreciate the significance of being 
the first Southerner to speak at this board, which bears 

The Anecdote 371 

the substance, if it surpasses the semblance, of original 
New England hospitality — and honors the sentiment 
that in turn honors you, but in which my personality is 
lost, and the compliment to my people made plain. 

I bespeak the utmost stretch of your courtesy to-night. 
I am not troubled about those from whom I come. You 
remember the man whose wife sent him to a neighbor with a 
pitcher of milk, and who, tripping on the top step, fell with 
such casual interruptions as the landings afforded into the 
basement, and, while picking himself up, had the pleasure of 
hearing his wife call out : "John, did you break the pitcher ? " 
"No, I didn't," said John, "but I'll be dinged if I don't." 
So, while those who call me from behind may inspire 
me with energy, if not with courage, I ask an indulgent 
hearing from you. I beg that you will bring your full faith 
in American fairness and frankness to judgment upon what 
I shall say. There was an old preacher once who told 
some boys of the Bible lesson he was going to read in the 
morning. The boys, finding the place, glued together the 
coimecting pages. The next morning he read on the 
bottom of one page, "When Noah was one hundred and 
t\yenty years old he took unto himself a wife, who was — " 
then turning the page — " 140 cubits long, 40 cubits 
wide, built of gopher wood — and covered with pitch inside 
and out." He was naturally puzzled at this. He read it 
again, verified it, and then said, "My friends, this is the 
first time I ever met this in the Bible, but I accept this as 
an evidence of the assertion that we are fearfully and 
wonderfully made." If I could get you to hold such faith 
to-night I could proceed cheerfully to the task I otherwise 
approach with a sense of consecration. 

372 Public Speaking 


From " The Lincoln Story Book," with the permission of G. W. Dillingham 
and Co., New York, publishers 

By H. L. Williams 

The Illinois Republican State Convention of i860 met at 
Decatur, in a wigwam built for the purpose, a type of that 
noted in the Lincoln Annals as at Chicago. A special 
welcome was given to Abraham Lincoln as a " distinguished 
citizen of Illinois, and one she will ever be delighted to 
honor." The session was suddenly interrupted by the 
chairman saying : "There is an old Democrat outside who 
has something to present to the convention." 

The present was two old fence rails, carried on the 
shoulder of an elderly man, recognized by Lincoln as his 
cousin John Hanks, and by the Sangamon folks as an old 
settler in the Bottoms. The rails were explained by a 
banner reading : 

"Two rails from a lot made by Abraham Lincoln and 
John Hanks, in the Sangamon Bottom, in the year 1830." 

Thunderous cheers for "the rail-spHtter " resoimded, 
for this slur on the statesman had recoiled on aspersers 
and was used as a title of honor. The call for confirmation 
of the assertion led Lincoln to rise, and blushing — so 
recorded — said : 

"Gentlemen, — I suppose you want to know something 
about those things. Well, the truth is, John and I did 
make rails in the Sangamon Bottom." He eyed the wood 
with the knowingness of an authority on "stumpage," 
and added : "I don't know whether we made those rails or 
not; the fact is, I don't think they are a credit to the 
makers!" It was John Hanks' turn to blush. "But I 

The Anecdote 373 

do know this : I made rails then, and, I think, I could make 
better ones now !" 

Whereupon, by acclamation, Abraham Lincoln was 
declared to be "first choice of the Republican party in 
Illinois for the Presidency." 

Riding a man in on a rail became of different and honor- 
able meaning from that out. 

This incident was a prepared theatrical effect. Governor 
Oglesby arranged with Lincoln's stepbrother, John D. 
Johnston, to provide two rails, and with Lincoln's mother's 
cousin, Dennis Hanks, for the latter to bring in the rails at 
the telling Juncture. Lincoln's guarded manner about 
identifying the rails, and sly slap at his ability to make 
better ones, show that he was in the scheme, though 
recognizing that the dodge was of value politically. 


From a lecture on Daniel O'Connell in " Speeches and Lectures," with the 
permission of Lothrop, Lee and Shepard, Boston, publishers 

By Wendell Phillips 

We used to say of Webster, "This is a great effort" ; of 
Everett, "It is a beautiful effort" ; but you never used the 
word "effort" in speaking of O'Connell. It provoked you 
that he would not make an effort. I heard him perhaps a 
score of times, and I do not think more than three times he 
ever lifted himself to the full sweep of his power. 

And this wonderful power, it was not a thunderstorm : 
he flanked you with his wit, he surprised you out of your- 
self ; you were conquered before you knew it. 

He was once summoned to court out of the hunting field, 
when a yovmg friend of his of humble birth was on trial 

374 Public Speaking 

for his life. The evidence gathered around a hat found 
next the body of the murdered man, which was recognized as 
the hat of the prisoner. The lawyers tried to break down 
the evidence, confuse the testimony, and get some relief 
from the directness of the circumstances, but in vain, until 
at last they called for O'Connell. He came in, flung his 
riding-whip and hat on the table, was told the circimastances, 
and, taking up the hat, said to the witness, "Whose hat is 
tHs ? " " Well, Mr. O'Connell, that is Mike's hat. " " How 
do you know it ? " "I will swear to it, sir." " And did you 
really find it by the body of the murdered man ?" "I did 
that, sir." " But you're not ready to swear to that ?" "I 
am, indeed, Mr. O'Connell." "Pat, do you know what 
hangs on your word? A human soul. And with that 
dread burden, are you ready to tell this jury that the hat, 
to your certain knowledge, belongs to the prisoner?" 
"Y-yes, Mr. O'Connell; yes, I am." 

O'Connell takes the hat to the nearest window, and peers 
into it — " J-a-m-e-s, James. Now, Pat, did you see that 
name in the hat?" "I did, Mr. O'Connell." "You knew 
it was there?" "Yes, sir; I read it after I picked it up." 
"No name in the hat, your Honor." 

So again in the House of Commons. When he took his 
seat in the House in 1830, the London Times visited him 
with its constant indignation, reported his speeches awry, 
turned them inside out, and made nonsense of them; 
treated him as the New York Herald use to treat us Aboli- 
tionists twenty years ago. So one morning he rose and 
said, "Mr. Speaker, you know I have never opened my 
lips in this House, and I expended twenty years of hard 
work in getting the right to enter it, — I have never lifted 

The Anecdote 375 

my voice in this House, but in behalf of the saddest people 
the sun shines on. Is it fair play, Mr. Speaker, is it what 
you call 'English fair play' that the press of this city will 
not let my voice be heard?" The next day the Times 
sent him word that, as he found fault with their manner of 
reporting him, they never would report him at all, they 
never would print his name in their parliamentary columns. 
So the next day when prayers were ended O'Connell rose. 
Those reporters of the Times who were in the gallery rose 
also, ostentatiously put away their pencils, folded their 
arms, and made all the show they could, to let everybody 
know how it was. Well, you know nobody has a right to 
be in the gallery during the session, and if any member 
notices them, the mere notice clears the gallery; only the 
reporters can stay after that notice. O'Connell rose. One of 
the members said, "Before the member from Clare opens his 
speech, let me call his attention to the gallery and the instance 
of that 'passive resistance' which he is about to preach." 
"Thank you," said O'ConneU. "Mr. Speaker, I observe the 
strangers in the gallery." Of course they left ; of course the 
next day, in the columns of the London Times, there were no 
parliamentary debates. And for the first time, except in 
Richard Cobden's case, the London Times cried for quarter, 
and said to O'Connell, " If you give up the quarrel, we will." 


From " Hunting the Grizzly," with the permission of G. P. Putnam's Sons, 
New York and London, Publishers 

By Theodore RooseVelt 

In the cow country there is nothing more refreshing than 
the light-hearted belief entertained by the average man to 

376 Public Speaking 

the effect that any animal which by main force has been 
saddled and ridden, or harnessed and driven a couple of 
times, is a "broke horse." My present foreman is firmly 
wedded to this idea, as well as to its complement, the belief 
that any animal with hoofs, before any vehicle with wheels, 
can be driven across any country. One summer on reach- 
ing the ranch I was entertained with the usual accounts 
of the adventures and misadventures which had befallen 
my own men and my neighbors since I had been out last. 
In the course of the conversation my foreman remarked : 
"We had a great time out here about six weeks ago. There 
was a professor from Aim Arbor came out with his wife to 
see the Bad Lands, and they asked if we could rig them up 
a team, and we said we guessed we could, and Foley's boy 
and I did ; but it ran away with him and broke his leg ! 
He was here for a month. I guess he didn't mind it, though." 
Of this I was less certain, forlorn little Medora being a 
"busted" cow town, concerning which I once heard another 
of my men remark, in reply to an inquisitive commercial 
traveler : " How many people lives here ? Eleven — count- 
ing the chickens — when they're all in town !" 

My foreman continued: "By George, there was some- 
thing that professor said afterward that made me feel hot. 
I sent word up to him by Foley's boy that seein' as how it 
had come out, we wouldn't charge him nothin' for the rig ; 
and that professor answered that he was glad we were 
showing him some sign of consideration, for he'd begun to 
believe he'd fallen into a den of sharks, and that we gave 
him a runaway team apurpose. That made me hot, 
calling that a runaway team. Why, there was one of them 
horses never could have run away before ; it hadn't never 

The Anecdote 377 

been druv but twice ! and the other horse maybe had run 
away a few times, but there was lots of times he hadn't 
run away. I esteemed that team full as liable not to run 
away as it was to run away," concluded my foreman, evi- 
dently deeming this as good a warranty of gentleness in a 
horse as the most exacting could possibly require. 


From a lecture entitled "Clear Grit," published in "Modern Eloquence," 
Vol. IV, Geo. L. Shuman and Company, Chicago 

By Robert Collyer 

In what we call the good old times — say, three hundred 
years ago — a family lived on the border between England 
and Scotland, with one daughter of a marvelous homeh- 
ness. Her name was Meg. She was a capital girl, as 
homely girls generally are. She knew she had no beauty, 
so she made sure of quality and faculty. But the Scotch 
say that "while beauty may not make the best kail, it 
looks best by the side of the kail-pot." So Meg had no 
offer of a husband, and was likely to die in what we call 
"single blessedness." Everybody on the border in those 
days used to steal, and their best "holt," as we say, was 
cattle. If they wanted meat and had no money, they wotild 
go out and steal as many beef cattle as they could lay their 
hands on, from somebody on the other side of the border. 
Well, they generally had no money, and they were always 
wanting beef, and they could always be himg for stealing 
by the man they stole from if he could catch them, and so 
they had what an Irishman would call a fine time entirely. 
One day a young chief, wanting some beef as usual, went out 
with part of his clan, came upon a splendid herd on the lands 

378 Public Speaking 

of Meg's father, and went to work to drive them across to 
his own. But the old fellow was on the lookout, mustered 
his clan, bore down on the marauders, beat them, took the 
young chief prisoner, and then went home to his peel very- 
much delighted. Meg's mother, of course, wanted to know 
all about it, and then she said, "Noo, laird, what are you 
gaun to do with the prisoner ? " " I am gaun to hang him," 
the old man thimdered, "just as soon as I have had my 
dinner." "But I think ye're noo wise to do that," she said. 
"He has got a braw place, ye ken, over the border, and he 
is a braw fellow. Noo I'll tell ye what I would do. I 
would give him his chance to be hung or marry oor Meg." 
It struck the old man as a good idea, and so he went pres- 
ently down into the dungeon, told the young fellow to get 
ready to be hung in thirty minutes, but then got round to 
the alternative, and offered to spare his life if he would 
marry Meg, and give him the beef into the bargain. 
He had heard something about Meg's wonderful want of 
beauty, and so, with a fine Scotch prudence, he said, "Ye 
will let me see her, laird, before I mak' up my mind, because 
maybe I would rather be hung." "Aye, mon, that's fair," 
the old chief answered, and went in to bid the mother get 
Meg ready for the interview. The mother did her best, 
you may be sure, to make Meg look winsome, but when the 
poor fellow saw his unintentional intended he turned roimd 
to the chief and said, "Laird, if ye have nae objection, I 
think I woiild rather be hung." "And sae ye shall, me lad, 
and welcome," the old chief replied, in a rage. So they led 
him out, got the rope around his neck ; and then the young 
man changed his mind, and shouted, "Laird, I'll tak' 
her." So he was marched back into the castle, married 

The Anecdote 379 

before he had time to change his mind, if that was possible, 
and the tradition is that there never was a happier pair in 
Scotland, and never a better wife in the world than Meg. 
But I have told the story because it touches this point, of 
the way they hold their own over there when there are 
great families of children. They tell me that the family 
flourishes famously still ; no sign of dying out or being lost 
about it. Meg's main feature was a very large mouth, and 
now in the direct line in almost every generation the neigh- 
bors and friends are delighted, as they say, to get Meg back. 
"Here's Meg again," they cry when a child is born with 
that wonderful mouth. Sir Walter Scott was one of the 
descendants of the family. He had Meg's mouth, in a 
measure, and was very proud of it when he would tell the 


From a speech published in Brewer's " The World's Best Orations," Vol. EX, 
Ferd. P. Kaiser, St. Louis, Chicago, publisher 

By SmNEY Smith 

I have spoken so often on this subject, that I am sure 
both you and the gentlemen here present will be obhged 
to me for saying but httle, and that favor I am as wiUing 
to confer, as you can be to receive it. I feel most deeply 
the event which has taken place, because, by putting the 
two houses of Parliament in coUision with each other, it 
will impede the public business and diminish the public 
prosperity. I feel it as a churchman, because I cannot but 
blush to see so many dignitaries of the Church arrayed 
against the wishes and happiness of the people. I feel it 
more than all, because I believe it will sow the seeds of 

380 Public Speaking 

deadly hatred between the aristocracy and the great mass 
of the people. The loss of the bill I do not feel, and for 
the best of all possible reasons — because I have not the 
slightest idea that it is lost. I have no more doubt, before 
the expiration of the winter, that this bill wiU pass, than I 
have that the annual tax bills wiU pass, and greater cer- 
tainty than this no man can have, for Franklin teUs us there 
are but two things certain in this world — death and 
taxes. As for the possibility of the House of Lords prevent- 
ing ere long a reform of Parliament, I hold it to be the most 
absurd notion that ever entered into human imagination. 
I do not mean to be disrespectful, but the attempt of the 
lords to stop the progress of reform reminds me very for- 
cibly of the great storm of Sidmouth, and of the conduct 
of the excellent Mrs. Partington on that occasion. In the 
winter of 1824, there set in a great flood upon that town, 
the tide rose to an incredible height, the waves rushed 
in upon the houses, and everything was threatened with 
destruction. In the midst of this sublime and terrible 
storm, Dame Partington, who lived upon the beach, was 
seen at the top of her house with mop and pattens, trun- 
dling her mop, squeezing out the water, and vigorously 
pushing away the Atlantic Ocean. The Atlantic was 
roused. Mrs. Partington's spirit was up ; but I need not 
tell you that the contest was imequal. The Atlantic Ocean 
beat Mrs. Partington. She was excellent at a slop or a 
puddle, but she should not have meddled with a tempest. 
Gentlemen, be at your ease — be quiet and steady. You 
will beat Mrs. Partington, 

The Anecdote 381 


From the same speech as the foregoing 
By Sidney Smith 

An honorable member of the honorable house, much 
connected with this town, and once its representative, 
seems to be amazingly surprised, and equally dissatisfied, 
at this combination of king, ministers, nobles, and people, 
against his opinion, — like the gentleman who came home 
from serving on a jury very much disconcerted, and com- 
plaining he had met with eleven of the most obstinate 
people he had ever seen in his Hfe, whom he foimd it abso- 
lutely impossible by the strongest arguments to bring over 
to his way of thinking. 

They tell you, gentlemen, that you have grown rich and 
powerful with these rotten boroughs, and that it would be 
madness to part with them, or to alter a constitution which 
had produced such happy effects. There happens, gentle- 
men, to Uve near my parsonage a laboring man of very 
superior character and understanding to his fellow laborers, 
and who has made such good use of that superiority that 
he has saved what is (for his station in life) a very con- 
siderable sum of money, and if his existence is extended to 
the common period he will die rich. It happens, however, 
that he is (and long has been) troubled with violent sto- 
machic pains, for which he has hitherto obtained no relief, 
and which really are the bane and torment of his life. Now, 
if my excellent laborer were to send for a physician and to 
consult him respecting this malady, would it not be very 
singular language if our doctor were to say to him : "My 
good friend, you surely will not be so rash as to attempt to 
get rid of these pains in your stomach. Have you not 

382 Public Speaking 

grown rich with these pains in your stomach? have you 
not risen under them from poverty to prosperity? has 
not your situation since you were first attacked been im- 
proving every year ? You surely will not be so foohsh and 
so indiscreet as to part with the pains in your stomach ? " 
Why, what would be the answer of the rustic to this non- 
sensical monition ? "Monster of rhubarb ! (he would say) 
I am not rich in consequence of the pains in my stomach, 
but in spite of the pains in my stomach ; and I should have 
been ten times richer, and fifty times happier, if I had never 
had any pains in my stomach at all." Gentlemen, these 
rotten boroughs are your pains in the stomach — and 
you would have been a much richer and greater people if 
you had never had them at all. Your wealth and your 
power have been owing not to the debased and corrupted 
parts of the House of Commons, but to the many independ- 
ent and honorable members whom it has always contained 
within its walls. If there had been a few more of these very 
valuable members for close boroughs we should, I verily 
believe, have been by this time about as free as Denmark, 
Sweden, or the Germanized States of Italy. 

This is the greatest measure which has ever been before 
ParUament in my time, and the most pregnant with good 
or evil to the country; and though I seldom meddle with 
political meetings, I could not reconcile it to my conscience 
to be absent from this. 

Every year for this half century, the question of reform has 
been pressing upon us, till it has swelled up at last into this 
great and awful combination ; so that almost every city and 
every borough in England are at this moment assembled for 
the same purpose, and are doing the same thing we are doing. 

The Anecdote 383 


From " Modern Eloquence," Vol. X, Geo. L. Shuman and Company, Chicago, 


By a. a. McCoEMrcK 

I do not want to be in the position of a man I once heard 
of who was a lion tamer. He was a very brave man. 
There was no lion, no matter how big, or strong, or vicious, 
that had not succumbed to this man's fearlessness. This 
man had a wife, and she did not like him to stay out late at 
night, and big as he was, and as brave, he had never dared 
to disrespect his wife's wishes, until one evening, meeting 
some old friends, he fell to talking over old times with them, 
their early adventures and experiences. Finally, looking 
at his watch, to his amazement he discovered it was mid- 
night. What to do he knew not. He didn't dare to go 
home. If he went to a hotel, his wife might discover him 
before he discovered her. Finally, in desperation, he sped 
to the menagerie, hurriedly passed through and went to 
the cage of lions. Entering this he closed and locked the 
door, and gave a sigh of relief. He quieted the dangerous 
brutes, and lay down with his head resting on the mane of 
the largest and most dangerous of them all. His wife 
waited. Her anger increased as the night wore on. At 
the first sign of dawn she went in search of her recreant 
lord and master. Not finding him in any of the haunts 
that he generally frequented, she went to the menagerie. 
She also passed through and went to the cage of the lions. 
Peering in she saw hfer husband, the fearless lion tamer, 
crouching at the back of the cage. A look of chagrin came 
over her face, closely followed by one of scorn and fine con- 
tempt, as she shook her_finger and hissed, "You coward !" 

384 Public Speaking 


From " In Lighter Vein," with the permission of Paul Elder and Company, 
San Francisco, publishers 

By John De Morgan 

Henry Irving, the actor, was always fond of playing 
practical jokes. Clement Scott tells of one played by 
Irving and Harry Montague upon a number of their asso- 
ciates. Irving and Montague, hitherto the best of friends, 
began to quarrel on their way to a picnic, and their friends 
feared some tragic consequences. After luncheon both of 
the men disappeared. Business Manager Smale's face 
turned pale. He felt that his worst fears had been realized. 
With one cry, "They're gone ! What on earth has become of 
them?" he made a dash down the Dargle, over the rocks 
and bowlders, with the remainder of the picnickers at his 
heels. At the bottom of a " dreadful hoUow behind the Httle 
wood," a fearful sight presented itself to the astonished 
friends. There, on a stone, sat Henry Irving, in his shirt- 
sleeves, his long hair matted over his eyes, his thin hands and 
white face all smeared with blood, and dangling an open clasp- 
knife. He was muttering to himself, in a savage tone : "I've 
done it, I've done it ! I said I would, I said I would ! " Tom 
Smale, in an agony of fear, rushed up to Irving. "For 
Heaven's sake, man," he screamed, "tell us where he is !" 
Irving, scarcely moving a muscle, pointed to a heap of dead 
leaves, and, in that sepulchral tone of his, cried : "He's there ! 
I've done for him ! I've murdered him ! " Smale literally 
bounded to the heap, almost paralyzed with fear, and began 
pulling the leaves away. Presently he found Montague Ij^ng 
face downward and nearly convulsed with laughter. Never 
was better acting seen on any stage. 

The Anecdote 385 


From "Memories of the Lyceum," in "Modern Eloquence," Vol. VI, 
Geo. L. Shimian and Company, Chicago, publishers 

By James Burton Pond 

Wendell Phillips was the most polished and graceful 
orator our country ever produced. He spoke as quietly 
as if he were talking in his own parlor and almost entirely 
without gestures, yet he had as great a power over all kinds 
of audiences as any American of whom we have any record. 
Often called before howling mobs, who had come to the 
lecture-room to prevent him from being heard, and who 
would shout and sing to drown his voice, he never failed 
to subdue them in a short time. One illustration of his 
power and tact occurred in Boston. The majority of the 
audience were hostile. They yelled and sang and com- 
pletely drowned his voice. The reporters were seated in 
a row just under the platform, in the place where the 
orchestra plays in an ordinary theater. Phillips made no 
attempt to address the noisy crowd, but bent over and 
seemed to be speaking in a low tone to the reporters. By 
and by the curiosity of the audience was excited; they 
ceased to clamor and tried to hear what he was saying to 
the reporters. Phillips looked at them and said quietly : — 

"Go on, gentlemen, go on. I do not need your ears. 
Through these pencils I speak to thirty millions of people." 

Not a voice was raised again. The mob had found its 
master and stayed whipped until he sat down. 

Eloquent as he was as a lecturer, he was far more effective 
as a debater. Debate was for him the flint and steel which 
brought out all his fire. His memory was something 
wonderful. He would listen to an elaborate speech for 

386 Public Speaking 

hours, and, without a single note of what had been said, in 
writing, reply to every part of it as fully and completely' 
as if the speech were written out before him. Those who 
heard him only on the platform, and when not confronted 
by an opponent, have a very Umited comprehension of his 
wonderful resources as a speaker. He never hesitated for 
a word or failed to employ the word best fitted to express 
his thought on the point under discussion. 


From " Writings in Prose and Verse, by Eugene Field," with the permission 
of Charles Scribner's Sons, New York, publishers 

By Eugene Field 

The members of the Boston Commercial Club are charm- 
ing gentlemen. They are now the guests of the Chicago 
Commercial Club, and are being shown every attention 
that our market affords. 

Last night five or six of these Boston merchants sat around 
the office of the hotel and discussed matters arid things. 
Pretty soon they got to talking about beans ; this was the 
subject which they dwelt on with evident pleasure. 

"Waal, sir," said Ephraim Taft, a wholesale dealer in 
maple sugar and flavored lozenges, "you kin talk 'bout your 
new-fashioned dishes an' high-falutin' vittles; but when 
you come right down to it, there aia't no better eatin' than 
a dish o' baked pork 'n' beans." 

"That's so, b'gosh!" chorused the others. 

"The truth o' the matter is," continued Mr. Taft, "that 
beans is good for everybody — 't don't make no difference 
whether he's well or sick. Why, I've known a thousand 
folks — waal, mebbe not quite a thousand ; but — waal, 

The Anecdote 387 

now, jest to show, take the case of Bill Holbrook, — you 
remember Bill, don't ye?" 

"Bill Holbrook?" said Mr. Ezra Eastman. "Why, of 
course I do. Used to live down to Brimfield, next to 
Moses Howard farm." 

"That's the man," resumed Mr. Taft. "Waal, Bill fell 
sick — kinder moped 'roxmd, tired-like, for a week or two, 
an' then tuck to his bed. His folks sent for Dock Smith — 
ol' Dock Smith that used to carry a pair o' leather saddle- 
bags. Gosh, they don't have no sech doctors nowadays ! 
Waal, the dock he come; an' he looked at Bill's tongue, 
an' felt uv his pulse, an' said that Bill had typhus fever. 

or Dock Smith was a very careful, conserv'tive man, an' 
he never said nothin' unless he knowed he was right. 

"BUI began to git wuss, an' he kep' a-gittin' wuss every 
day. One mornin' ol' Dock Smith sez, 'Look a-here. Bill, 
I guess you're a goner; as I figger it, you can't hoi' out till 

"Bill's mother insisted on a con-sul-tation bein' held; 
so ol' Dock Smith sent over for young Dock Brainerd. I 
calc'late that, next to ol' Dock Smith, young Dock Brainerd 
was the smartest doctor that ever lived. 

"Waal, pretty soon along come Dock Brainerd; an' he 
an' Dock Smith went all over Bill, an' looked at his tongue, 
an' felt uv his pulse, an' told him it was a gone case, an' 
that he had got to die. Then they went on into the spare 
chamber to hold their con-sul-tation. 

"Waal, Bill he lay there in the front room a-pantin' an' 
a-gaspin', an' a wond'rin' whether it wuz true. As he wuz 
thinkin', up comes the girl to git a clean tablecloth out of 
the clothespress, an' she left the door ajar as she come in. 

388 Public Speaking 

Bill he gave a sniff, an' his eyes grew more natural like; 
he gathered together all the strength he had, an' he raised 
himself up on one elbow an' sniffed again. 

"'Sary,' says he, 'wot's that a-cookin'?' 

"'Beans,' says she; 'beans for dinner.' 

"'Sary,' says the djdn' man, 'I must hev a plate uv them 
beans ! ' 

"'Sakes ahve, Mr. Holbrook!' says she; 'if you wuz 
to eat any o' them beans it'd kiU ye ! ' 

"'If I've got to die,' says he, 'I'm goin' to die happy; 
fetch me a plate uv them beans.' 

"Waal, Sary she pikes off to the doctor's. 

"'Look a-here,' says she ; 'Mr. Holbrook smelt the beans ; 
cookin' an' he says he's got to have some. Now, what shall ^ 
I do about it?' 

"'Waal, Doctor,' says Dock Smith, 'what do you think 
'bout it?' 

'"He's got to die anyhow,' says Dock Brainerd, 'an' I 
don't suppose the beans '11 make any diff'rence.' 

"'That's the way I figger it,' says Dock Smith; 'in all 
my practice I never knew of beans hurtin' anybody.' 

"So Sary went down to the kitchen an' brought up a 
plateful of hot baked beans. Dock Smith raised Bill up 
in bed, an' Dock Brainerd put a piller under the small of 
Bill's back. Then Sary sat down by the bed an' fed them 
beans into Bill imtil Bill couldn't hold any more. 

"'How air you feeUn' now?' asked Dock Smith. 

"Bin didn't say nuthin ; he jest smiled sort uv peaceful- 
like and closed his eyes. 

"'The end hez come,' said Dock Brainerd sof'ly; 'Bill 
is d3dn'.' 

The Anecdote 389 

"Then Bill murmured kind o' far-away like; 'I ain't 
dyin' ; I'm dead an' in heaven.' 

"Next mornin' Bill got out uv bed an' done a big day's 
work on the farm, an' he ain't hed a sick spell since. Them 
beans cured him !" 


From " Speeches and Addresses of Abraham Lincoln," Current Literature 
Publishing Company, New York, publishers 

By F. B. Carpenter 

"Within a month after Mr. Lincoln's first accession to 
office," says the Hon. Mr. Raymond, "when the South was 
threatening civil war, and armies of office seekers were be- 
sieging him in the Executive Mansion, he said to a friend 
that he wished he could get time to attend to tlie Southern 
question ; he thought he knew what was wanted, arid believed 
he could do something towards quieting the rising discontent ; 
but the ofBce seekers demanded all his time. 'I am,' said 
he, 'hke a man so busy in letting rooms in one end of his 
house that he can't stop to put out the fire that is burning 
the other.' Two or three years later when the people had 
made him a candidate for reelection, the same friend spoke 
to him of a member of his Cabinet who was a candidate also. 
Mr. Lincoln said that he did not concern himself much about 
that. It was important to the country that the department 
over which his rival presided should be administered with 
vigor and energy, and whatever would stimulate the Secre- 
tary to such action would do good. 'R ,' said he, 'you 

were brought up on a farm, were you not ? Then you know 
what a chin-fly is. My brother and I,' he added, ' were once 
plowing corn on a Kentucky farm, I driving the horse, and 

390 Public Speaking 

he holding the plow. The horse was lazy; but on one 
occasion rushed across the field so that I, with my long legs, 
could scarcely keep pace with him. On reaching the end 
of the furrow, I found an enormous chin-fly fastened upon 
him, and knocked him off. My brother asked me what I 
did that for. I told him I didn't want the old horse bitten 
in that way. " Why," said my brother, " that's all that made 
him gol" Now,' said Mr. Lincoln, 'if Mr. has a presi- 
dential chin-fly biting him, I'm not going to knock him off 
if it will only make his department go' " 


Abraham Lincoln 

Address of Sergeant Buzfuz . . . 
Address to the Freshman Class . . 
Against War with Mexico . . . 
A Man's a Man for A' That . . . 

American Courage 

Andr€ and Hale 

Appreciation of Mr. Gladstone, An 

Art of Acting, The 

Artemus Ward's Lecture . . . . 
Arts of the Ancients, The . . . . 
At a University Club Dinner . . 

Horace Porter . . 
Charles Dickens . 
Charles William Eliot 
Thomas Corwin . 
Robert Burns . . 
Sherman Hoar 
Chauncey M. Depew 
Arthur J. Balfour . 
Henry Irving . . 
Charles Farrar Brown 
Wendell Phillips . 
Henry E. Howland 

Baked Beans and Culture . . . . 

Battle of Lexington, The 

Beginnings of American Oratory, The 

Bellario's Letter 

Benefits of a College Education, The . 
Books, Literature and the People . . 

Boys, The 

Bright Land to Westward , . . . 

Britain and America 

Brutus to the Roman Citizens . . . 
Bunker Hill 

Caesar, The Fighter 

Call to Democrats, The 

Canada, England and the United States 

Casca, Speaking of Csesar 

Cassius against Caesar 

Charles Dickens 

Choice of a Party, The 

Circumstance not a Cause .... 

Class Poem 

Coalition, The 

Competition in College 

Cradle of Liberty, The 

Eugene Field . . 
Theodore Parker . 
Thomas Wentworth 
William Shakespeare 
Abbott Lawrence Lowell 
Henry van Dyke . . 
Oliver Wendell Holmes 
E. O. Wolcott 
John Bright . . . 
William Shakespeare 
Daniel Webster 

Henry W. Longfellow 
Alton B. Parker . . 
Sir Wilfred Laurier . 
William Shakespeare 
William Shakespeare 
William Watson 
Roscoe Conkling 
Sidney Smith . 
Langdon Warner 
Daniel Webster 
Abbott Lawrence Lowell 
Daniel Webster . . . 



















Daniel Webster, The Man . . 
Dartmouth College Case, The . 
Death of Garfield, The . . 
Death of Prince Albert, The , 
Debate on the Tariff . . . ^ 
Debate on the Tariff .... 
Declaration of Lidependence, The 

Thomas Wentworth Higginson 251 

Daniel Webster 307 

James G. Blaine ..... 189 

Benjamin Disraeli .... 194 

Thomas B. Reed 277 

Charles F. Crisp ..... 279 

Abraham Lincoln . ^ ... , . 100 


392 Index 

Democratic Faith William E. Russell .... 300 

Democratic Party, The William E. Russell .... 294 

Education for Business Charles William Eliot . . . 245 

Effectiveness in Speaking William Jennings Bryan . . 241 

Enduring Value of Speech, The . . . . Thomas Wentworth Higginson 253 

England and America John Bright 302 

Evacuation of New York, The ... . Joseph H. Choate .... 309 

Example of Faith, An Henry W. Grady 344 

Execution of Rodriguez, The Richard Harding Davis . . 236 

Faith in the People John Bright 136 

Farewell Address to the United States Senate Henry Clay 187 

Flood of Books, The Henry van Dyke 240 

French against Hayti, The Wendell Phillips 138 

General Ulysses S. Grant Canon G. W. Farrar .... 219 

Gettysburg Address, The Abraham Lincoln 69 

Gimga Din Rudyard KipUng 151 

Hamlet to the Players William Shakespeare . . .75 

High Standard, The Lord Rosebery . . . 83 

Homes of the People, The ...... Henry W. Grady 217 

Hunting the Grizzly Theodore Roosevelt .... 269 

Impeachment of Andrew Johnson, The . . George S. Boutwell .... 326 

Impeachment of Andrew Johnson, The . . William M. Evarts .... 330 

Impeachment of Warren Hastings, The . . Edmund Burke 67 

In Defense of John E. Cook D. W. Voorhees 313 

la Defense of Lord George Gordon . . . Lord Thomas Erskine . . . 320 

Id His Own Defense Robert Emmet ..... 108 

In Defense of the Kennistons Daniel Webster 309 

In Defense of the Soldiers Josiah Quincy, Jr 315 

In Our Forefathers' Day T. De Witt Tahnage ... 127 

Invective against Louis Bonaparte . . . Victor Hugo no 

Irving, The Actor John De Morgan 384 

Jim Bludso, of the Prairie Belle .... John Hay 169 

Justification for Impeachment Edmund Burke 95 

Justifying the President John C. Spooner 86 

King Robert of Sicily Henry W. Longfellow ... 89 

Laying the Atlantic Cable James T. Fields 91 

Look Well to Your Speech George Herbert Palmer ... 73 

Man without a Coimtry, A ..... . Edward Everett Hale . . . 231 

Mariners of England, The ...... Thomas Campbell .... 334 

Marullus to the Roman Citizens .... William Shakespeare .... 63 

Master of the Situation, A James T. Fields 206 

Matches and Overmatches ...... Daniel Webster 105 

Meg's Marriage . Robert CoUyer 377 

Memorial Day Address John D. Long ...... 181 

ge to Gaida, A Elbert Hubbard ..... 210 



Minutemen of the Revolution, The . . . George William Curtis 

Mob Conquered, The George William Curtis 

Monsieur and Madame Paul Blouet (Max O'Rell) 

More Terrible than the Lions A. A. McCormick 

Mount, The Doge of Venice ! . ... Mary Russell Mitford 

Murder of Lovejoy, The Wendell Phillips . 

Natural Philosopher, A Maccabe .... 

Necessity of Force, The John M. Thurston 

Nominating John Sherman James A. Garfield 

Nominating Ulysses S. Grant Roscoe Conkling , 

Nominating Woodrow Wilson John W. Wescott . 

Northern Greeting to Southern Veterans . Henry Cabot Lodge 

Notes on Speechmaking Brander Mathews 

O Rome ! My Country ! Lord Byron . . . 

O Scotia ! Robert Burns . . 

O Tiber, Father Tiber ! Lord Macaulay 

O'Connell, the Orator Wendell Phillips . 

O'Connell's Wit Wendell PhiUips . 

OfiBcial Duty ... .... . . Theodore Roosevelt 

On Home Rule in Ireland . William E. Gladstone 

On Resistance to Great Britain Patrick Henry . 

On Retaining the Philippine Islands . . George F. Hoar 

On Retaining the Philippine Islands . . . William McKinley 

On Taxing the Colonies .... . Edmund Burke 

On the Disposal of Public Lands .... Robert Y. Hayne 

Outdoing Mrs. Partington Sidney Smith . 

Partridge at the Play Henry Fielding 

Paul Revere's Ride George William Curtis 

Pilgrim Mothers, The . Joseph H. Choate 

Precepts of Polonius, The WilUam Shakespeare 

Pronouncing Sentence for High Treason . . Sir Alfred Wills 

Rail-Splitter, The H. L. Williams . 

Recessional, The Rudyard Kipling . 

Reliable Team, A Theodore Roosevelt 

Republican Party, The N John Hay . . . 

Response to a Toast Litchfield Moseley 

Return in Defeat, A Henry W. Grady . 

Return in Triumph, A T. De Witt Talmage 

Revenge, The Alfred Lord Tennyson 

Ring Out, Wild Bells! Alfred Lord Tennyson 

Robert E. Lee John W. Daniel 

Roll On, Thou Deep ! Lord Byron . . . 

Second Inaugural Address, The ..... Abraham Lincoln 

Secretary Chase's Chin-Fly ...... F. B. Carpenter 

Shakespeare's "Mark Antony" ..... Anonymous . . 

Soldier's Creed, The . Horace Porter . 

Something Rankling Here Daniel Webster 

South Carolina and Massachusetts . . . Robert Y. Hayne 

South Carolina and Massachusetts . . . Daniel Webster 



Spirit of the South, The 
Squandering of the Voice 
Sunset near Jerusalem . 

Tale of the Plains, A . . 

Thou Too, Sail On ! . . . 

Ties of Kinship 

To Athletic Victors 

To College Girls 

Training of the Gentleman, The 
Trial of Abner Barrow, The . . 
Troop of the Guard, A . . . . 
Tjrpical American, The . . . 

Henry W. Grady . . . 
Henry Ward Beecher 
Corwin Knapp Linson . 

Theodore Roosevelt 
Henry W. Longefllow 
Sir Edwin Arnold . . . 
Henry E. Rowland . . 
Le Baron Russell Briggs 
WilUam J. Tucker . . 
Richard Harding Davis 
Hermann Hagedom, Jr. 
Henry W. Grady . . 

Vision of War, A Robert G. IngersoU . . 

Wendell Phillips, The Orator George William Curtis . 

Wendell Phillips's Tact ... James Burton Pond . . 

What the College Gives Le Baron Russell Briggs 

William E. Gladstone . . . . Lord Rosebery 

William McKinley ... John Hay . . 

Wit and Humor Minot J. Savage 

With Tennyson at Farringford By His Son . . 

Woman Theodore Tilton 











Anonymous .... 
Arnold, Sir Edwin . . 

Balfour, Arthur J. 
Beecher, Henry Ward 
Blaine, James G. . . . 
Blouet, Paul (Max O'Rell) 
Boutwell, George S. . . 
Briggs, Le Baron Russell 
Briggs, Le Baron Russell 
Bright, John 
Bright, John . . . 
Bright, John . . 
Brown, Charles Farrar 
Bryan, William Jennings 
Burke, Edmund 
Burke, Edmund . . 
Burke, Edmund 
Bums, Robert . 
Bums, Robert . . . 
Byron, Lord . . , 
Byron, Lord . . . 

Collyer, Robert . . 
Campbell, Thomas 
Carpenter, F. B. 
Choate, Joesph H. 
Choate, Joseph H. 
Clay, Henry 
Conkling, Roscoe 
Conkling, Roscoe . . 
Corwin, Thomas . 
Crisp, Charles F. . 
Curtis, George William 
Curtis, George William 
Curtis, George William 
Curtis, George William 

Daniel, John W. . . . 
Davis, Richard Harding 
Davis, Richard Harding 
De Morgan, John . . . 
Depew, Chauncey M. 
Dickens, Charles . . . 
Disraeli, Benjamin . . 

Shakespeare's " Mark Antony" . . 
Ties of Kinship ... 

An Appreciation or Mr. Gladstone 
Squandering of the Voice . . 
The Death of Garfield . . 

Monsieur and Madame 

The Impeachment of Andrew Johnson 
What the College Gives 
To College Girls . . . 
Britain and America 
Faith in the People .... 
England and America . 
Artemus Ward's Lecture 
Effectiveness in Speaking .... 
The Impeachment of Warren Hastings 
On Taxing the Colonies . . 
Justification for Impeachment 
A Man's a Man for A' That 

O Scotia! 

O Rome ! My Country ! . . . . 
Roll On, Thou Deep ! . . . 

Meg's Marriage .... 
The Mariners of England . . . 
Secretary Chase's Chin-Fly 
The Evacuation of New York 

The Pilgrim Mothers 

Farewell Address to the United States 
Nominating Ulysses S. Grant . . . 

The Choice of a Party 

Against War with Mexico . . . . 

Debate on the Tariff 

Wendell PhiUips, The Orator . . . 
The Minutemen of the Revolution 

Paul Revere's Ride 

The Mob Conquered . . . 


Robert E.Lee 

The Trial of Abner Barrow . 
The Execution of Rodriguez . 
Irving, The Actor . . . 
Andr£ and Hale . . 
Address of Sergeant Buzfuz . 
The Death of Prince Albert 






















EUot, Charles William 
Eliot, Charles William 
Emmet, Robert . . 
Eiskine, Lord Thomas 
Evarts, William M. . 

Education for Business 245 

Address to the Freshman Class at Harvard 261 

In His Own Defense io8 

In Defense of Lord George Gordon . . . 320 

The Impeachment of Andrew Johnson . . 330 

Farrar, Canon G. W. ... General Ulysses S. Grant 219 

Field, Eugene Baked Beans and Culture 386 

Fielding, Henry Partridge at the Play 161 

Fields, James T Laying the Atlantic Cable 91 

Fields, James T A Master of the Situation 206 

Garfield, James A Nominating John Sherman 292 

Gladstone, William E. ... On Home Rule in Ireland 304 

Grady, Henry W A Return in Defeat 124 

Grady, Henry W The Spirit of the South 132 

Grady, Henry W The Homes of the People 217 

Grady, Henry W The Typical American 318 

Grady, Henry W An Example of Faith 370 

Hagedom, Jr., Hermaim . . 
Hale, Edward Everett . . . 

Hay, John 

Hay, John 

Hay, John 

Hayne, Robert Y. ... 

Hayne, Robert Y. . . . 

Henry, Patrick 

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth 
Higginson, Thomas Wentworth 
Higginson, Thomas Wentworth 
Hoar, George F. . . 
Hoar, Sherman . . 
Hobnes, Oliver Wendell 
Howland, Henry E. . 
Howland, Henry E. . 
Hubbard, Elbert . . 
Hugo, Victor . . . 

Ingersoll, Robert G. 
Irving, Henry . . 

Kipling, Rudyard 
Kipling, Rudyard 

Laurier, Sir Wilfred . 
Lincoln, Abraham 
Lincoln, Abraham 
Lincoln, Abraham 
Linson, Corwin Knapp 
Lodge, Henry Cabot 
Long, John D. . . 
Longfellow, Henry W. 
Longfellow, Henry W. 

A Troop of the Guard 364 

A Man without a Country 231 

Jim Bludso, of the Prairie Belle .... 160 

William McKinley 183 

The Republican Party 285 

On the Disposal of Public Lands .... 99 

South Carolina and Massachusetts . . . 281 

On Resistance to Great Britain 109 

The Beginnings of American Oratory . . 248 

Daniel Webster, The Man 251 

The Enduring Value of Speech .... 253 

On Retaining the Philippine Islands . . . 272 

American Courage 221 

The Boys 366 

At a University Club Dinner 333 

To Athletic Victors 355 

A Message to Garcia 210 

Invective against Louis Bonaparte . . . no 

A Vision of War 118 

The Art of Acting 259 

The Recessional 64 

Gunga Din 151 

Canada, England, and the United States 
The Gettysburg Address . . 
The Declaration of Independence . . 
The Second Inaugural Address . . . 

Sunset near Jerusalem 

Northern Greeting to Southern Veterans 
Memorial Day Address ... . . 
Thou Too, Sail On ! 



Longfellow, Henry W. . 
Lowell, Abbott Lawrence 
Lowell, Abbott Lawrence 

Macaulay, Lord 
Maccabe . . . 
Mathews, Brander 
McCormick, A. A. 
McKinley, William 
Mitford, Mary Russell 
Moseley, Litchfield . 

Palmer, George Herbert 
Parker, Alton B. . 
Parker, Theodore 
Phillips, Wendell . 
Phillips, Wendell . 
Phillips, Wendell . 
Phillips, Wendell 
PhilUps, Wendell . 
Pond, James Burton 
Porter, Horace 
Porter, Horace 

Quincy, Jr., Josiah 

Reed, Thomas B. . 
Rosebery, Lord 
Rosebery, Lord 
Roosevelt, Theodore 
Roosevelt, Theodore 
Roosevelt, Theodore 
Roosevelt, Theodore 
Russell, William E. 
Russell, William E. 

Savage, Minot J. . . 
Shakespeare, William 
Shakespeare, William 
Shakespeare, William 
Shakespeare, WilUam 
Shakespeare, William 
Shakespeare, WilUam 
Shakespeare, William 
Smith, Sidney . . . 
Smith, Sidney . . . 
Spooner, John C. . . 

Tahnage, T. De Witt 
Tahnage, T. De Witt 
Tennyson, Alfred Lord 
Tennyson, Alfred Lord 
Tennyson, the Son 
Thurston, John M. . 

King Robert of Sicily 8g 

The Benefits of a College Education . . . 176 

Competition in College .... . 203 

O Tiber, Father Tiber ! 62 

A Natural Philosopher 157 

Notes on Speech-Making 267 

More Terrible than the Lions 383 

On Retaining the Philippine Islands . . 274 

Mount, The Doge of Venice ! 114 

Response to a Toast isg 

Look Well to Yoiu: Speech 73 

The Call to Democrats 296 

The Battle of Lexington 216 

O'Connell, The Orator 93 

The French against Hayti ... . . 138 

The Murder of Lovejoy 144 

The Arts of the Ancients 228 

O'ConneU's Wit 373 

Wendell Phillips's Tact 384 

The Soldier's Creed 201 

Abraham Lincoln 353 

. In Defense of the Soldiers 315 

Debate on the Tariff 277 

The High Standard 83 

WiUiam E. Gladstone 199 

Official Duty 72 

A Tale of the Plains 147 

Hunting the Grizzly . 269 

A Reliable Team ... 373 

The Democratic Party 294 

Democratic Faith . . 300 


Wit and Humor 

MaruUus to the Roman Citizens 

Hamlet to the Players -75 

Bellaris's Letter 76 

Casca, Speaking of Caesar 71 

Brutus to the Roman Citizens .... 82 

The Precepts of Polonius 87 

Cassius against Csesar . . .... 120 

Outdoing Mrs. Partington . . . 379 

Circumstance not a Cause 381 

Justifying the President 86 

A Return in Triumph 122 

In Our Forefathers' Day 127 

Ring Out, Wild Bells 58 

The Revenge 115 

With Tennyson at Farringford 264 

The Necessity of Force 139 



Tilton, Theodore . 
Tucker, William J. 

Van Dyke, Henry 
Van Dyke, Henry 
Voorhees, D. W. . 

Warner, Langdon 
Watson, William . 
Webster, Daniel 
Webster, Daniel 
Webster, Daniel . 
Webster, Daniel 
Webster, Daniel 
Webster, Daniel . 
Webster, Daniel . 
Webster, Daniel 
Williams, H. S. . 
WUls, Sir AUred . 
Wolcott. E. O. 


The Training of the Gentleman 

The Flood of Books 

Books, Literature, and the People . . 
In Defense of John £. Cook . . 

Class Poem . . . . . 

Charles Dickens ... ... 

The Cradle of Liberty . . 

Bunker Hill 

Matches and Overmatches . . . . 

The Coalition 

Something Rankling Here . . 
South Carolina and Massachusetts 
The Dartmouth College Case . . . 
In Defense of the Kennistons 
Nominating Woodrow Wilson . . . 

The Rail-Splitter 

Pronouncing Sentence for High Treason 
Bright Land to Westward . . 





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